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Favourite winter memories from an island girl

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I hate heat. I prefer to be cold than to be hot. Of course, this is easy to say as a woman who’s never lived in a place where temps fall subzero. But two years ago I spent an entire winter in New York and I had a fantastic time. Munchkin was born during this time and I think she’s a true winter baby. I can’t get her to sleep with covers on and so I always try to bundle her up for bed because of course I sleep with the fan blazing. I remember when we were in New York my aunt, bless her heart, always thought munchkin could use an extra layer or two.

My absolute favourite winter memory of being in New York is when we went to get munchkin’s passport in Manhattan the day before a blizzard was supposed to be rolling through. We took the train from White Plains and when we came up from the subway station it was snowing hard with few people walking around. It was so white and pristine, I felt like I was in a movie. Munchkin was bundled up in a carrier on her papi’s chest and we had umbrellas out to shield her from the snow. It may be a weird favourite memory, but it was so cool to me a little island girl experiencing her first bouts of snow.

Admittedly, I may not love the snowtime if I lived in a place like Brooklyn where people bus and train more than they drive. I can’t imagine having to stand at the bus stop waiting in such conditions. Well, I can, because we did it a few times and it wasn’t always fun. But when we were in White Plains things became much easier. There’s wasn’t the need to bundle up quite as much as we were only walking from the parking lot to inside a building at any one point. My gripe with Brooklyn is having to bundle up so much in preparation for walking outdoors then take off a few layers when popping in a store then putting it all back on outside. It got old quick. While I do love the cold and I love to be in a pair of boots, needing earmuffs and scarves over my nose for my walk to the laundromat or the supermarket in Brooklyn was never fun but donning a simple coat and running to the car in White Plains made life easier and nourished my love of winter. Of course, if I had to shovel snow every morning to get my car out, I can see how my view could once again quickly change.

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