Renee Chou: When snow means work ... until you have a little one who just wants to play

On the air and on social media, I’ve made it clear I’m not a fan of snow. You’d think I would be, given my Michigan roots. And while I can certainly appreciate the beauty and enchantment of snow-- for nearly 20 years now, “snow” means “work.”

Before coming to Raleigh, I worked as a television reporter for five years in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, where it snowed. A lot. Snow meant standing by the side of the road, talking about road conditions. Snow meant taking the ruler or measuring tape out to see how much snow fell. Snow meant covering drivers whose cars slid off the road or people who lost their power. Snow meant standing in the cold, waiting to do your umpteenth live report.

When I came to Raleigh, the snowstorms were far less frequent. But every time it snows, it’s all hands-on deck at the TV station. During my first nine years at WRAL, I did plenty of snow duty out in the field. My role has since changed, and now I’m fortunate to stay warm and dry at the anchor desk. For hours, as we stay on the air, we see the car wrecks; we hear the dire warnings from the governor; we demonstrate the challenges of getting around. During winter weather, the Triangle shuts down. Schools and businesses are closed for days. Snow is incredibly inconvenient for everyone.

During our Jan. 17 snow, WRAL was live with continuous coverage to keep people informed. We started at 4 a.m. and got off the air at 1 p.m., handing the baton to our evening colleagues. I ate a quick lunch that was provided by work and then made the slow and careful trek home. While I enjoyed watching the snow event unfold on the air, juggling new information and updates, and talking with our crews who did an amazing job showing the impact – after nine hours on the air, I was drained.

When I arrived home, my husband, who stayed with Elsa while I was at work, had to get on a conference call for his work. Truthfully, all I wanted to do was take a nap. But I was greeted by the biggest hug from Elsa. And then my three-and-a-half-year-old looked up at me and said, “Do you want go play in the snow?”

How could I say no?

We put on our snow attire and went into the backyard where the snow measured as much as five inches. We built a snowman AND a snow woman. We used rocks for eyes, sticks for arms, and luckily had some carrots in the refrigerator for a nose. But I didn’t know what to do for a mouth. I asked Elsa. She thought for a moment and then said, “What about my pipe cleaner?” She recently used them for an art project at preschool and brought several of them home. The red pipe cleaner worked beautifully and I arranged it in a smile. I couldn’t help but smile back.

We made snow angels. As the snow kept falling, we opened our mouths and let the flakes dissolve on our tongues. I showed her how to make a snowball. I watched her make tracks all over our yard. It was tranquil, peaceful -- like being in the middle of a snow globe. The quiet was only interrupted by Elsa’s peals of laughter and shrieks of delight. I was in the moment.

And so was Elsa. I marveled at how much she was enjoying the snow. And I was reminded of just how magical, wonderful and fun it can be. The snow was Mother Nature’s way of pressing the pause button on life. It causes you to stop what you’re doing, take notice and spend quality times with the ones you love.

Wouldn’t you know it? My three-and-a-half-year-old just might turn me into a snow lover after all.