February Funk

I hate February.

Everyone has times in the year that are not their best times. Some people wilt in the heat of summer. Others hate September because they don’t want summer to end and dread going back to school. Me? I hate November and February.

(I have a hate on for August, too. But that is something entirely different, and personal.)

November is rainy and cold and dreary. I don’t enjoy the damp and the cold and the endless overcast days of November, but I can tolerate it. But February? February is much the same, but amped up. February is dark, and buried in snow, and way, way too cold.

I feel depressed in February. I hate the cold, and always have. I have absolutely NO interest in winter sports, except for maybe cross country skiing, and it has been 20 years since I have tried that. I do not skate, I think downhill skiing is a fancy name for “death wish”, and I think snowmobiles are silly (why not just DRIVE in heated comfort?) I do not enjoy being cold. I do not find winter air “bracing” or “exhilarating” or “refreshing” or any of those other stupid adjectives that mean “arse-freezing cold”. I feel housebound, and the inertia gets to me, and I am cranky. I hate feeling that I am trapped indoors. I can occasionally get outside and shovel the driveway or something if the weather is calm and snowy. But for the most part, I am trapped.

I am learning that this feeling is worse with a toddler. She LOVES to go outside, but she is too little to do much except walk up and down the sidewalk. And she gets cold so fast, and her little cheeks get chapped. She doesn’t seem to mind, but I do. She is still a little too young to tell me that she is cold, so I limit her outdoors time. I am grateful for calm days, because then we can get out for a bit, but if there is a wind chill, here in the wind tunnel of tree-denuded suburbia, we stay indoors for all but a short time.

She’s too young to play WITH, for the most part. She is not at an age where she grasps organized play yet, so it’s mostly about flitting from activity to activity and trying to engage with her. But she, like all toddlers, has the attention span of a gnat or a soap dish or a stick of gum — approximately 15 seconds. And I run out of ideas after awhile.

So here we are, the two of us. We’re stuck indoors and are getting a little stir crazy.

I considered buying a sled the other day, and bundling her up, and the two of us heading off into the woods on walks. I’d get my exercise, we’d be sheltered from the wind, and she’d get some outside time. This is something I will have to consider for next winter — scouting out our local conservation areas, buying a decent sled, and planning some walks. The only wrinkle will be what to do about diaper changes, or potty breaks, if we are there yet.

Mercifully, February is more than half over. March is around the corner, and with March will come sunshine, and clearing sidewalks, and some chances to get outside with the stroller and walk again. We can turn off the TV and the radio and the computer, and go OUTSIDE. Spring will be just around the corner. I can take That Baby outside and not worry that the wind will chap her little face, or that her fingers will get too cold. It will be wet and slushy and mucky, but that is okay by me. Muddy clothes can be washed.

And, next winter, she will be a little older. Playing indoors will be a whole different ball game. Or, she will be able to go outside and do more things and tell me if she is cold. So that’s something that will make it a little easier to get through the winter.

In the meantime, we will try our best to get through the rest of February without going completely squirrelly.