I am not a fan of winter. Especially winter with kids. It starts off innocently enough. A beautiful blanket of freshly fallen snow, usually coinciding with the holiday season. Just enough to get you in the spirit and actually want to break out your shovel. Fast forward four months.

Winter can f@%k off.

The worst part is, I actually believed it was over. I mentally packed away all the gear: the snow pants, the soggy mittens; I was in rubber boot and spring coat land and then I got yanked back with this winter storm dose of Canadian reality.

And it kicked my butt.

I woke up this morning completely unprepared for the morning rush. After all, the rush gets seemingly less harried as the mornings get warmer. Instead of lingering over our cereal I found myself searching frantically for three sets of matching mittens. I swear I matched and sorted over 20 pairs last fall, but come April I find myself sending my daughter to school in the only matching pair while the rest of our crew showed up wearing the mismatched evidence of my inept parenting.

Snow should be the best part of winter. Skiing, sledding, snow angels, snow fights; but five minutes in, there were already tears. The puppy stole the youngest kid’s mitten; snow was in this one’s boot. The wind was blowing too hard. I got outside and realized that being about four weeks out of practice I forgot the golden winter rule: preheat your minivan.

In this weather my kiddos could turn a 15 -minute walk to school into an hour’s worth of tears, whining and snotty noses (mostly mine), so it was decided for me that I had no choice but to chip my way into a slippery drive in. The only upside to this was I was able to miss out on much of the early morning car fights. I edited the sounds of threats and smacks into the sound of Channing Tatum complimenting my dedication to my family as I chipped away in my mismatched mittens.

Dear Spring: where are you?  I know you think this little snowstorm was a hilarious late April Fool’s Day prank, but we are all ready for you to return. I promise to go on a million nature walks and feed every bird I see if you will only melt this horrible snow and bring me some sunshine.

I need the sun. I need to wear dresses again. I need a reason to shave my legs.

At the very least, I need to experience a season of pumpkin spice everything before I can mentally handle one more snowflake.