Canada Moms Blog

It's not me, it's you

That’s it: I’m breaking up with Canadian February. 

It doesn’t make sense, right? I mean, of all the months to loathe, why chose the shortest month of the year? Why pick on the month that brings the heart-and-flowery goodness of Valentine’s Day? In Ontario, February even delivers a long weekend in the form of Family Day. Here’s the rub: we Canadians have come to expect our long weekends to involve sun, beers and barbeque. Long weekends are not about waiting in line with 1000 other families for the ‘privilege’ of baring your translucent flesh at the public swimming pool.

It’s nothing personal, February, it’s just that you are so conveniently sandwiched between two months that aren’t as hate-worthy. January represents the start of a brand new year; the tabula rasa of months, with a little warm-and-fuzzy New Year’s Eve glitter still clinging to its hem. And March, well that is the month that ushers in the promise of spring. It heralds the return of bunnies and baby chicks, earthy smells and thick green stems clawing their way up through the supple earth.

What do you bring to the table, February? Your formerly fluffy, pristine snow is sludgy and dirty. The composter is stuffed right to the top. The kids’ winter coats are irretrievably stained. My minivan smells like goats have been breeding in the back. I have completely run out of ideas for packing school lunches. I am done, February. Done.

Some Canadians make the move to go somewhere warm in February. I think that is a calculated risk. For instance, this year you might have thought a Disney vacation was in order to beat the February blahs. However, you probably didn’t plan on having to wear jeans and sweaters on your ‘southern’ vacation. Nice one, February. Your evil is not constricted by the laws of physics or geography.

A Canadian Christmas Requires Snow

I have lived in Canada my whole life, and save for three years spent in Ottawa, Ontario as a child, the entire time has been in Saskatchewan.  That means that snow and Christmas, for me, go hand in hand.  I am an expert at complaining about winter, how could I not be after 35 years of practice?  However, it's not the snow that bothers me.  Oh sure it makes driving more challenging but I get used to that.  In fact, I kind of enjoy driving right after we get a huge dump of snow. I feel powerful and mighty maneuvering my van through the drifts (Murphy, you didn't hear that did you?).  I am woman, hear me roar, a little snow isn't keeping me down. 

Yes, I am in therapy, why do you ask?

The amazing Canadian summer that ... wasn't, really

I know that my fellow Canadians living on the West Coast are currently drowning in massive pools of their own sweat with a wild heat wave that is sweeping B.C.  And as someone who thinks "humidity" should just be re-named "death" I really don't envy those of you who are sitting limply, trying to just find enough energy to drag yourselves to the nearest beach, pool, or bathtub to cool off.

That being said, I don't particularly care for the sub-arctic freeze that is known as winter either (no, I'm not very easy to please am I?), at least in part because winter just lasts so long here.  Because of that, I put aside my trepidation over having to consider things like the Humidex and I look forward to summer for, you know, the summery things.

Things like swimming.  Playing in the park.  Swimming.  Having BBQs with friends.  Swimming.  Drinking a glass of wine outside on someone's deck or my own balcony.  Did I mention the swimming?  I hold tight to memories of those things when it's March and Montreal is getting its 42nd dumping of snow that season.

Dull Days

I read an article in the paper this morning about the link between depression and cloudy, dull weather.  It seems as if cognitive function in depressed people declines on dark days.  The article certainly provided an explanation for my inability to finish the crossword puzzle.  It may also provide a clue as to why this post is about that over-reaching Canadian preoccupation -- the weather.  A while back Natasha wrote a brilliant post called Summer: The Dope-Smoking, Half-Naked, Laze-About.  You know what?  He hasn't been around here lately.