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A Christmas Miracle
The day dawned dark and cold. Baby J woke up at about 6:45 and needed to be changed. As Freckles and I changed him, I looked out the window. It was dark, cold, and snowing.
Suddenly I couldn't take it anymore.
"It's snowing," I moaned at Freckles, "still."
We have now been in Oregon for five days. The last time we were in a car was on Friday, when we arrived from the airport. In fact, the last time we have been anywhere except the grocery store was Friday. (We can walk to the grocery store.)
It's absolutely beautiful outside, all things considered. But I was tired of being inside the house, tired of trying to see how deep the snow would get, tired of not being about to go anywhere.
Freckles and Baby J went and checked email for about an hour while I tried to sleep.
When I woke up, I still felt the same.
In case you don't know me, I'm kind of a runner. I didn't start out like this -- in fact, in college, the only exercise I ever got was from walking everywhere. But then I started working out, and eventually that lead into running. Which, because I'm me, lead into obsessive-compulsive running. And those New Balance ads don't lie -- running is an addiction, it's a relationship, it's a personal promise, and I just can't stop.
I've never lived anywhere with snow, but I'm not sure if you can run in it.
At least, I wasn't sure until today, when Freckles (basically in an attempt to save his own sanity by saving mine) announced that we were both going running and that he didn't care if it snowed or rained while we did it.
It turns out: you can run in snow. You'll probably look really stupid as you alternately leap from drift to drift and then slide across the frozen road, but it's a great workout. We probably only went about a mile and a half, but you have to run more slowly in the frozen north. Freckles just informed me that he's sore from our workout and I am, too -- which means it was worth it.
(Side note: when Freckles, Baby J, and I visited my old roommate, Elka, a few weeks ago, she asked about whether delivering Baby J had hurt. I was telling her that it only really hurt for the last 3 hours, when she said, "Yeah, but you like pain." Which is both totally not true, and also totally true. I do like the kind that I can control, especially when it means I am getting somewhere. Like, for instance, in better shape.)
Anyway, when we came back, we were soaked in sweat and also (oh, sweet, wonderful "also") drenched in water that had fallen from the trees as THE SNOW MELTED.
It was so beautiful. It was so wonderful. We could see the road. We could see the end. I felt like those characters in The Chronicles of Narnia when everything starts to melt and it's no longer always winter but never Christmas.
We came back home and I was so happy, I stopped moping around the house and had a fantastic afternoon, helping make cookies (sort of helping), hanging out, and letting Baby J suck on the apple I was eating.
I know everyone talks about white Christmases -- but I'm so so so so so happy we're going to be able to leave the house!
Merry Christmas to everyone! As my dad says, even with the thaw, there's still enough snow for Santa to land on the roof!

