Big chill
I'm not going to beat around the bush here. I'm not going to waste time, or pussyfoot around, although I'm perfectly willing to overdo the cliches. It's time to face the 400 pound gorilla in the room.
Winter is coming.
Probably my greatest fear in moving to Chicago has been getting the kids and me through the notoriously bitter cold weather, and now it's begun. People around here are still walking around in t-shirts and shorts, and that has caused me to panic. I sent my children to school today in what would be considered full-winter gear in San Antonio. My ballerina went to school in a sweatsuit and a parka with a faux-fur lined hood, and my son was bundled in his fleece-lined 4-in-one hooded jacket. His winter coat in San Antonio. And he was cold waiting for the carpool. I'm doubling up on the hoodies and have already brought out the big guns - long underwear.
It's still SEPTEMBER!
I have recently befriended the loveliest women whose children are the same age as mine. One has triplets in my daughter's nursery school and a second grader. Another has a boy in each of my children's classes. It works out really well. After we pick up our 4-year olds we head off to the library for story time, or to the playground to let off some steam. The mothers let off steam. The kids just run around like lunatics.
We are in similar situations. One husband is in his final year of a medical fellowship. another has a great job, but they're putting four kids through Jewish Day Schools. Put into perspective, that's a down payment on a house every year, or a new SUV every year. So our husbands slave away at their respective careers, and we keep the home fires burning because to do otherwise would only serve to make a babysitter wealthy and us crazier than we already are.
My new friends are educated, funny, and cool. They are my guides to life in Chicago. They steered me towards the Department of Motor Vehicles without the lines, and gave me the heads up last week:
"You'd better buy your winter gear now. It won't be around in a month or so."
Winter gear!? NOW?! I panicked.
I went on a shopping frenzy. I bought snow boots, snow pants, long underwear, warm pyjamas, mittens, gloves, hats, and a puffy coat for my diva. I even bought matching outfits for the girls, which is a first, believe it or not. I went searching for a winter coat for my son. This was familiar territory for me. It reminded me of my first winter as a grad student when I walked into Eastern Mountain Sports and announced to the sales staff: I'm from Texas and this is my first winter in Boston. HEEEELP!
I essentially did the same thing in the department store here. I grabbed some random, grandmotherly woman and asked, is this a winter coat? I then launched into my pathetic spiel about just having moved from from Texas. She looked at it and shook her head.
"This is a fall coat."
A fall coat? You need a coat for fall? You need a coat specifically for fall? I was looking at a coat that may have come out of the closet for a week in San Antonio, and this kindly woman, with a straight face, was informing me that I might as well send my kids to play in a blizzard in swimsuits.
I grabbed the shopping cart to keep from fainting. My son looked at the coat and then at me. The gravity of our situation was just beginning to hit him. "This isn't warm enough?" He asked incredulously, feeling the down-filled coat with the faux-fur lined hood and the woolly lining. He looked like an Eskimo in it to me, but apparently, Eskimos wouldn't be caught dead in these things past Thanksgiving.
I went from store to store accosting sales staff. Is this a winter coat?! I'd ask like a crazed idiot. Three days and countless stores later, I still don't have a clue what a proper winter coat looks like. They're not out yet. The snow pants, mittens, boots, and hats are, but not coats. And, apparently, I got the wrong mittens. They have to be waterproof for the snow.
My new sisters are nodding their heads sympathetically. "It won't be that bad," they suggest. "After all, there's global warming!" They offer, encouragingly.
Dearest friends, If you love me you will buy the big gas-guzzling SUV's, and please, write to your congress persons and senators and thank them for nixing the Kyoto protocol. While we're at it, CFC's couldn't have been that bad, right?
Right?
Winter is coming.
Probably my greatest fear in moving to Chicago has been getting the kids and me through the notoriously bitter cold weather, and now it's begun. People around here are still walking around in t-shirts and shorts, and that has caused me to panic. I sent my children to school today in what would be considered full-winter gear in San Antonio. My ballerina went to school in a sweatsuit and a parka with a faux-fur lined hood, and my son was bundled in his fleece-lined 4-in-one hooded jacket. His winter coat in San Antonio. And he was cold waiting for the carpool. I'm doubling up on the hoodies and have already brought out the big guns - long underwear.
It's still SEPTEMBER!
I have recently befriended the loveliest women whose children are the same age as mine. One has triplets in my daughter's nursery school and a second grader. Another has a boy in each of my children's classes. It works out really well. After we pick up our 4-year olds we head off to the library for story time, or to the playground to let off some steam. The mothers let off steam. The kids just run around like lunatics.
We are in similar situations. One husband is in his final year of a medical fellowship. another has a great job, but they're putting four kids through Jewish Day Schools. Put into perspective, that's a down payment on a house every year, or a new SUV every year. So our husbands slave away at their respective careers, and we keep the home fires burning because to do otherwise would only serve to make a babysitter wealthy and us crazier than we already are.
My new friends are educated, funny, and cool. They are my guides to life in Chicago. They steered me towards the Department of Motor Vehicles without the lines, and gave me the heads up last week:
"You'd better buy your winter gear now. It won't be around in a month or so."
Winter gear!? NOW?! I panicked.
I went on a shopping frenzy. I bought snow boots, snow pants, long underwear, warm pyjamas, mittens, gloves, hats, and a puffy coat for my diva. I even bought matching outfits for the girls, which is a first, believe it or not. I went searching for a winter coat for my son. This was familiar territory for me. It reminded me of my first winter as a grad student when I walked into Eastern Mountain Sports and announced to the sales staff: I'm from Texas and this is my first winter in Boston. HEEEELP!I essentially did the same thing in the department store here. I grabbed some random, grandmotherly woman and asked, is this a winter coat? I then launched into my pathetic spiel about just having moved from from Texas. She looked at it and shook her head.
"This is a fall coat."
A fall coat? You need a coat for fall? You need a coat specifically for fall? I was looking at a coat that may have come out of the closet for a week in San Antonio, and this kindly woman, with a straight face, was informing me that I might as well send my kids to play in a blizzard in swimsuits.
I grabbed the shopping cart to keep from fainting. My son looked at the coat and then at me. The gravity of our situation was just beginning to hit him. "This isn't warm enough?" He asked incredulously, feeling the down-filled coat with the faux-fur lined hood and the woolly lining. He looked like an Eskimo in it to me, but apparently, Eskimos wouldn't be caught dead in these things past Thanksgiving.
I went from store to store accosting sales staff. Is this a winter coat?! I'd ask like a crazed idiot. Three days and countless stores later, I still don't have a clue what a proper winter coat looks like. They're not out yet. The snow pants, mittens, boots, and hats are, but not coats. And, apparently, I got the wrong mittens. They have to be waterproof for the snow.
My new sisters are nodding their heads sympathetically. "It won't be that bad," they suggest. "After all, there's global warming!" They offer, encouragingly.
Dearest friends, If you love me you will buy the big gas-guzzling SUV's, and please, write to your congress persons and senators and thank them for nixing the Kyoto protocol. While we're at it, CFC's couldn't have been that bad, right?
Right?
posted by law school widow at 11:00 AM
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