An Open Letter to Winter Weather

Dear Winter,

Hi. You're pretty. But no offense, but I'm getting tired of you. Call me fickle if you want, but you've really put a cramp in my style lately. I don't mind snow, really - it's nice to look at and it makes any room feel warmer when you look at it from a window, but I believe you've overstayed your welcome.

Have you ever tried to be pregnant in an ice/snow event? In Texas - where the snow removal method is generally called "the sun?" It's not that fun. Your husband won't let you go anywhere. Your friends harangue you on Twitter and Facebook about trying to drive or walk in it. For the first day, it's kind of fun, sure, because naps are awesome and being able to put your feet up almost all day is something you generally don't get to do. But after that first day, stuff starts getting boring. You realize there is nothing on TV from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. that doesn't involve a soap opera, renovating a home, buying stuff on TV, or shows you saw in college or high school. By day three, you've played 1,050 games of Tap Farm on your iPhone, made a giant pot of chili, and rearranged your sock drawer three times.

Unless, of course, you're like me, and have also managed to schedule your bathroom renovation for the only week-long winter weather event in recent history. Then you are going stir crazy as a guest in someone else's home. You may have - as we do - a rock star contractor who powered through and only had to miss one day of work, but you still found yourself - as we did - begging on Friday that you'd just be happy at this point if the toilet was out of the nursery and installed in the bathroom and you had hot water coming to the kitchen sink by Sunday night. And when you come home Sunday night and lo - the toilet is indeed in the bathroom and there is hot water in the kitchen, you will weep tears of joy.

But then the sun comes out, the rain and ice melt away, and you find yourself at work again, actually happy to be there. But then Tuesday comes, and you see the weatherman tweeting on Twitter that he's expecting major snowfall on Wednesday, and you sigh. And begin bargaining with the weather gods that they just hold back a little so you can have your shower back, and make your doctor's appointment, and meet your child's pediatrician. And, Tuesday afternoon, when the forecast gets worse instead of better, you heave a resigned sigh and ask your sister-in-law if you can once again come shower at her house in case Snowpocalypse 2011 revisits and you're stuck inside yours for a few days.

So yes, you're pretty, Winter. But I don't think this is working out. I think we need a break. It's not me, it's you. Maybe I'll be ready to see you again later - say, January 2012, or even December 2011. But for now, I think we should see other seasons.

Yours Truly,

Bethany Erickson

Bethany Erickson is 30 weeks pregnant and the wife of Texas Health Resources web editor Tom Erickson.