Here We Go Again...

I woke up this morning, rubbed my eyes and noticed a strange light streaming in from my bedroom window.

A shade of light I haven't seen for at least six months.

A shade of light I have become all too acquainted with since moving to Utah.

A shade of light I am not particularly fond of.

Sure enough, when I begrudgingly pulled myself out of my warm bed and trudged my way to the front room, I looked out my sliding glass door to see this:





That's right. It SNOWED today. SNOWED. Everyone knows it's not supposed to snow until December 24th, and then promptly stop on New Year's Day.

Every year I dread this day. I wear flip flops in protest until my toes turn an unnatural shade of purple from the cold. I begin planning my fake Hawaiian getaways in September in anticipation of the pending freeze. I bribe the weathermen at my station to keep sunshine in the forecast.

This year, however, my reaction was surprisingly different. Instead of the usual urge to curl up in the fetal position and hide under my bed until May, I actually felt a surge of genuine excitement.

Today was my baby's very first snow day.




*I realize it is very irresponsible of me to put my infant outside in the middle of a blizzard for the sake of a picture, but I firmly believe that one day she will thank me for capturing this very momentous occasion.

As long as she doesn't get frostbite, that is.