Ice is Not Nice

Nebraska doesn’t really seem like a very treacherous place, but it is. Especially when it’s icy. This morning I stepped out on my porch, looked at the ground, and said, “Great. Ice.” There wasn’t a ton, but as a Nebraskan and a mother, I know the risks well.

One of the biggest jobs for a mother is carrying things. Carrying toys, carrying food, carrying children. And ice can make that job very difficult and very hazardous. Slipping on the ice and dropping what you’re carrying can not only injure whatever happened to be in your arms (broken train, goodbye cake, crying child), but it can injure the mother herself. Try carrying all that stuff with a sprained ankle (try doing any other of the million things a mother does with a sprained ankle)!

Aside from the dropped stuff and sprained ankle, your child who is able to walk is also imbued with the foolish notion that they are invincible (don’t worry, this will wear off around age 32 or so, or whenever they have children of their own). They will insist on walking across the ice on their own; there’s no way they’re going to let you carry them, and they will probably also resist your hand to assist them. But they will turn to you to wipe their tears when they fall.

Guess what happens next.

Ice is perilous whether even if you’re not a mother or a small child; be careful out there.