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I spent a large portion of my life in Winnipeg - from the time I was in elementary school until I was an adult. When I was a kid, the cold winters didn't bother me. There's something about being a kid that deflects any feelings of cold. We would spend hours outside building snow forts, making snow angels, skating and sledding. Our cheeks would remain pink for hours after we returned to our warm house.
Then in my teen years, I refused to even acknowledge the cold. Minus 25 celcius? Puh-shaw! I'd walk to school in my high tops, my jacket unzipped, hands stuffed in my pockets, no hat atop my head. There was no way I was going to mess up my feathered hair.
As an adult I got smart and started dressing as warmly as possible. When your exposed skin can freeze in less than a minute, you start to realize that having ears is a good thing.
Did I mention I also have Raynaud's Phenomenon? If I'm out in the cold, my circulation cuts off in my outer digits. Not all at once and not even the same fingers and toes every time. But when it happens my digits turn freakishly white. If you're ever out with me in the winter, I'll show you. It totally freaks my kids out. It's not dangerous, more a pain in the ass...or fingertips and toes as the case may be.
Basically it all boils down to 'I hate the cold'.
Which is funny because in a 'cool' twist of fate I now find myself at an ice cold, ice rink four to six times a week, every week.
There's Speed Skating Son - twice
Speed Skating Mom (that's me) - also twice
Hockey Skating Son - twice
Luckily Hockey Skating Dad manages to take Hockey Skating Son to most of his practices and games leaving me with only four trips to the rink. And the ones where I'm skating aren't all that bad since I'm moving around. I've only come home to random white toes twice.
Irony is a bitch.
And I'd flip her the bird but my circulation cut off while I was at the rink and I have to go run my finger under warm water.