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About Me

Melissa
I grew up in a village of 500 people and now live in a beach town of 10 000. Wife to Jeff, Mama to Makenna and Jack. This is my place to share what's up with us, and the place where I sometimes need to pour my heart out about the not so sunshiney moments. This is my happy place. Thanks for stopping by :) Copyright 2012 by Melissa Wormington, that no part of this blog may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without permission from the publisher.
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The Wormingtons

The Wormingtons
Jeff, Makenna, Jack and Melissa. Spring 2012. Photo credit: Tricia Denomme/Hope Photography

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Confessions of a mom at the end of her winter rope...

Today is March 5 and outside my window raindrops have been falling since last night. The snow is melting, ever so slowly. We traded snowboots for rubber boots as we ventured out for this morning's swimming lessons, but we still needed winter coats.

The weather at this time of year is unpredictable, so just because it's raining today, doesn't mean there won't be 2 feet of snow on the ground next weekend (please, please, no).

So today, I appeal to you, dear readers, especially those locally, and those that see my daughter on a regular basis...to remember that it is March, and it's sort of Spring like weather outside, but it may turn winter like again at any moment. Remember all of this when you see my daughter as she goes to and from school in her snowsuit.

In her snowpants that she has worn every day for the past two winters, to and from school and other winter fun activities. The snowpants that she has taken one, almost both, knees out of. The knee that I tried to salvage by sewing it back shut (which is a testament to my commitment to mothering in itself because anyone who knows me knows that I am not a seamstress of any kind).
The knee that (of course) ripped right back open right after I sewed it shut not once, but 3 times.
The snowpants she she has worn for two years, walking around on her hands and knees every single day, pretending she is a cat, a dog, a baby and who knows what else, rolling snowballs into snow people, building forts and building memories all on her hands and knees because as everyone knows, it's much more fun to walk around on your hands and knees in the snow when you are young than it is to walk around on your feet. The knees that are brownish grey now, not purple.

Please don't judge her for those knees that the cotton peeks out of and tries to escape from every now and then, or the 3 other rips she has managed to put into these snowpants in the last month.
Please try to understand my reasoning for not buying her a new pair of snowpants. It's March. It's raining as often as it snows. These pants match her purple coat and it;s impossible to find another matching pair (Believe me, I've looked). This snowsuit, which I bought on clearance for $30 has lasted her 2 winters and really doesn't owe me anything. There is a beautiful new snowsuit waiting in the closet for her for next winter, with black snowpants, ones that will be much easier to replace should the same fate occur next year (and I am under no illusions that it won't) but I am not giving her those snowpants right now.
I am fully aware that her snowpants look this way. I gave a valiant attempt to save them (although, honestly I'm not sure what looks worse - the big hole or the sewing job - before it ripped back open). I will never find a patch to match this colour, and even if I did, it likely wouldn't stay on.
So again, I appeal to you - please don't judge. She is a lovely girl whose mother is too cheap to buy her a new pair of snowpants in March. That's all.
I promise - it hurts me more than it hurts her. Or you.
Please tell me I'm not alone?

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