I remember when I was little and in school myself how wonderful it was to hear the news broadcaster tell me that my school was closed because of snow.
As a young girl in elementary school I got giddy thinking of all the fun I'd have sledding, making snowmen, and tossing myself down in the fluffy white stuff to make snow angels. It didn't matter if it was below freezing and my chin was frozen so I couldn't talk without a lisp, I was in heaven. And let's face it, a frozen chin and numb fingers are much better than math any day, right?
As an adolescent in middle school I viewed snow days a bit differently. I still loved to play outside in the snow, but now I didn't like the cold part, or the wet part for that matter, that came with the snow. And besides, as a preteen I was too "cool" to play outside, at least where anyone could see me. So as a preteen snow days meant lazy days curled up on the couch with the remote control and the phone.
As a teenager in my first years of high school snow days meant freedom. I could sleep until noon, or later, if I wished. I didn't have to worry about Latin or Algebra homework that wasn't yet completed. I could be lazy or go hang out with my friends. It was too cold and nasty outside, in the mindset of a teenager, to even think of venturing further than my friend's car and the warmth and good times it promised.
When I was almost 17 years old I had my first child. It was the last month of my Junior year in high school. I had had my license for less than a year, I hadn't even mastered Algebra, and life had changed dramatically.
That summer I didn't even think of snow days. I wondered what in the Sam Hell I had gotten myself into. Freedom wasn't in my vocabulary anymore. I had taken freedom and run with it, then tripped over it, and wound up in quite a mess within a year. That summer I started to mature into an adult, though a reluctant one.
I went back to work four weeks after I had my son. I was a waitress at a local restaurant. I loved the people I worked with, but the pay was very meager. In the eyes of the Child Labor Law I was an emancipated teen so I was able to work the hours of an adult. Autumn came back around with its falling leaves and brisk winds warning of colder temperatures, but still snow days were very far from my mind.
In fact, I wasn't even thinking about going back for my Senior year in high school. Due to being on homebound education at the end of the last school year I had failed Chemistry and English. I needed four credits of English to graduate and I couldn't take both English classes in the same year. On top of that, I was mortified that I had failed my favorite subject, the one I was best at, and I didn't want to be in a Junior English class. So I decided to drop out.
Truancy is the word they use when you decide to just not go to school. Apparently, it is against the law. Luckily, I had begun to take GED exit-option classes through my high school before the Truancy police started sniffing at us. When the court date came around I presented the judge with my completed GED. I immediately started attending the local community college and continued working.
Winter came as it always does. With it I'm sure there were snow days, but snow days no longer applied to me. It didn't matter if it was snowing, I had to work. My life was work, school, home. I didn't have friends anymore. I didn't go out. I worked and I studied and I tried to care for a colicky baby. I was 17.
Before you think I did this all alone, let me correct you. My momma took care of my oldest son while I was at work or school. I worked from 4pm-2am and went to school from 8am-12pm. I will admit that she did most of the mothering during that time because she was the one there to take care of him. I was determined to provide for my child. I didn't want to be a burden on my family. I didn't want to disappoint them again. I also wanted to try to provide a better life than a high school drop out could for my child. During this time, I didn't know who I was.
I got laid off and had to find another job. I couldn't find anything that would work with my school schedule, so I dropped out of college after only two months.
The years blurred together. There was sunshine, there was rain, and there were snow days. My son was old enough now that snow days meant something again. They didn't mean a day out of school anymore. Instead they meant dragging that old sled back out of the garage and playing with him. Seeing the happiness in his eyes when he discovered the joys of a fresh snowfall. Again, the frozen chin and the numb fingers meant nothing. The huge grin on that 2 year old's face meant the world.
I met a wonderful man and got married when my oldest son was 3 years old. My son walked me down the aisle. My parents gave me away. Life began anew.
Fast forward to the present. I now have three boys. My oldest is 9, my middle one is 5, and my youngest is 3. We've moved a hundred miles away from our hometown and family. My husband adopted my oldest son a few years ago and now he carries the same last name as the rest of us. My husband has never treated him any differently, he loves him as his own blood. My son, in turn, loves my husband as his own blood and calls him Daddy. My oldest son has something that most kids don't. He has two mommas and two daddies that love him to the moon.
My two older sons are in school now and get to experience snow days. We don't live in the country anymore, but in an apartment complex, so snow days never equal as much fun. But still, they're there to be had. Snow days again mean no school and that makes most kids happy. The same feelings that I had as a child. The promise of a day for themselves, the joy of playing in that cold wet stuff, and the relief of not having to conjugate verbs or work out long division. The ability to choose how to spend the day.
Today they got out of school early. They've had a lot of snow days this year, to the point that my oldest is sick of them, but still I think they're magical even if I'm as tired of the snow days as he is. Again I find the snow more of a bother than a joy, but I can still remember how awesome it was as a child to hear those freeing words. I wonder though, how will they feel this summer when they have to make up those days? Only time will tell.
