It is no secret that winter and I have a love/hate relationship. In November, I love the winter: Christmas! Fresh snow! Scarves and hats! It is new and hopeful and I have dreams delusions of grandeur about ice skating and baking cookies and snuggling under a warm blanket. Then February hits and I loathe every damn thing about it: Christmas debt! Black soot with snow and ice under it! All those damn layers to put on me and the toddler who refuses to keep her damn hat on! It is old and tiring and I am sick of falling asleep under a blanket on the couch super early every night after my will to be awake and living through another winter has disappeared. This year, I started hating winter early. Like in January, and now that February is here and I don't have a vacation somewhere warm(er) until April, I am officially in loathe with winter. I am tired. So, so tired. After we put the kiddo to bed and get ready to catch up on our DVR or read books or talk I really just want to go to be...