Whooo-eee! It's a Cold One Out There!

As much as there are lots of aspects of motherhood I love, I am the first to admit that I didn't take to my new role immediately after The Girl was born. Not only did I not "bond" with her when she was minutes old (whatever that means), but I had trouble not resenting her for the first few months.

Sure, I would have done anything to protect her (that's part of the job description) and I set everything aside to ensure her safety/well-being, but, given her untimely arrival and the ensuing typing of my entire thesis with one hand while simultaneously nursing a squalling infant, she wasn't exactly endearing.

Part of the issue was my own selfishness. I am remarkably self-centered and require tremendous personal willpower or (more usually) a great deal of extrinsic motivation (sticks tend to work better than carrots) to do anything that doesn't lead to the immediate gratification of my desires.

This selfishness gave me a certain oh, shall we say, disapassionate view of my daughter. In fact, at her two-month check-up and immunization appointment, I watched her post-needle distress and though, eh, better you than me - you won't remember it.

(Before you bestow upon me the "Coldest Mother in the World" title, please know that the situation changed quite rapidly as I got into the whole motherhood deal a bit more, and by the time the four-month vaccination rolled around, I was tearful enough to satisfy the most sensitive of you.)

I'm reminded of that initial hard-heartedness as I consider the difference in the recent cold-snap temperatures between here and Winnipeg. I'll admit it - I've become soft. Where last year my battle cry was "YOU JUST HAVE TO DRESS FOR IT!" before charging out into the wintery wasteland in my rated-for-parajumping parka, I now whine just having to go look for my toque.

(Ahem. "Winter hat." They don't know the T-word down here.)

This new softness goes hand-in-hand with a renewed callousness; instead of compassionately commiserating with residents of my former province, I hunch over my steaming coffee as I observe the wind chill warnings up North (!!) and think, "phew, better you than me."

Still, it's not like it's a balmy palm-tree kind of day here. My tongue would stick to my mailbox (were I in the habit of licking it clean) just as it would back home. Which is why no one is going out of the house today and I'm praying the furnace doesn't decide to break.

We have lots to keep us occupied indoors, however. The Girl has gone from a "meh" attitude about reading and writing to simply gulping down language. In an almost disturbing re-creation of my own past, she has decided that school is in session:

(It's not all bad - we get snack. After we all wash our hands, of course.)

(Proud mother moment: "I [would] like it [if] you can be quiet and if you could find my book for me pretty pretty please")

But at least I'm not The Husband. He returns from San Fransisco today, where he has been enjoying 15+ temperatures. He is wearing his lightest leather jacket and his car has been parked at the airport for four days.

Ah well, better him than me.