Getting tough

"It’s like 'Groundhog Day.' You wake up and it’s a snow nightmare every day."

- Jim Simpson, Transportation Commissioner commenting on the seemingly nonstop snow for the past month in New Jersey

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Of all the years that we could have moved to the Northeast, we picked the year with one of the snowiest winters in half a century. The storm that dropped about a foot on us last night was the seventh snowfall over two inches in the last month.

Several natives have said to me, "This is worse than normal, it's not usually like this."

Is that supposed to make me feel better?

If there was such a thing as the complain police I would have so many tickets I'd be serving time. My face will probably never recover from the constant scowl I have been walking around with for the last month.

Last week, after an overnight dusting of snow, I came stomping into Liam's classroom in the morning spreading the scowl and griping about my winter suffering. One of Liam's teachers said, "Living in Jersey for a year is going to make you tough."

To which I replied, "Do you mean my arms will get stronger from cleaning off my car?"

She gave me a pointed look, tapped her head with her index finger, and said, "No, I mean tough here." 

Ouch! Was she saying that I am a big whiny cry baby? Hmm, I think I deserve that.

When I heard the storm was coming yesterday I decided this was it. My chance to prove that I am not a weeny, I can survive a winter in New Jersey. No more complaining, I will not be beat by a little snow storm.

I went straight to Duane Reade after picking Liam up from school and bought myself a shovel (I had stubbornly refused to buy one before this point). I carried the shovel and my scraper/brush into the house. I slept like a baby, and in the morning when I woke up I didn't even flinch when I opened the door and saw this:

Remember when this tree used to be full of golden leaves?

See the faint trail where the sidewalk used to be?

After downing a cup of coffee I threw on my snow boots, wool sweater, down coat, gloves and knitted cap and went out the door at 7:15 while Liam was still sleeping. I trudged across the yard, slipped down the driveway out onto the street and came face-to-face with this:

Is this one my car?

Perfect driving conditions

Then I started digging. I thought, hey, snow is actually pretty light. At least for the first few minutes. I broke out into a sweat. I contemplated proper snow etiquette - how much is too much snow to pile up behind the neighbor's car? I got the best exercise I've had in months. I felt no fear, just a determination to get my car out and get on with my day. I felt...proud.

Before.

After.

I went back in the house and got ready for work. I got Liam up and ready for school. I trudged back to the car with him, and, very slowly, we were on our way.

My parents called while we were getting out of the car in the day care parking lot. They wanted to know if I was staying home today. Ha! I told them if I stayed home every time it snows here I'd lose my job. I informed them that the new me could not be intimidated by the weather.

I made it to work at 9:30. Only 30 minutes later than usual. Not bad for a Texas-via-the-tropics girl.

Where was C.J., you are wondering? He is on his surgery rotation and has to be at the hospital at 5 a.m. for the next six weeks. And there is no such thing as a snow day at a hospital. 

He had to shuffle and slide his way to work on foot at 4:45 this morning up a hill and along some half-plowed roads in the best shoes he has for this weather - his cowboy boots. Maybe that explains the scowl on his face when he made it home tonight.