Every morning when I drive my kids to school, we pass by a high school, where the bell time must be earlier than ours because there are always teenagers lingering around outside. On more than one occasion my kids have, in full panic, pointed out that there are kids who aren’t wearing jackets.

“Are they crazy!?” I hear, coming from the backseat in dismay.

This is the first Canadian winter my kids have ever experienced. Before this year, their gauge for winter has been rainy season in Congo or Indonesia, or the south of France, where as toddlers they could wear a hoodie in February.

Their new life has them living in a polar vortex, literally. It has been week after week of temperatures regularly plunging to -20 degrees Celsius and colder. They haven’t been able to go outside for recess in weeks. When there was a week of -40, my social media feed was a frenzy of people throwing boiling water into the frigid outside air to watch it instantly evaporate.

My kids struggle with the layers of snow-gear that they’ve never had to deal with before and I may have uttered the words, “Why are we living in this uninhabitable corner of the earth?”…more than once since winter hit.

BUT, (and there’s always a but) if our life overseas has taught me anything, it’s that we’re all adaptable! If I’m being honest, the kids usually get in check before the parents, in our house anyway.

We went from my youngest not wanting to wear pants or long sleeves in September because all she’s ever know is sun dresses; to now simply sighing and schlepping on snow pants for yet another day. Progress.

I however have taken a bit longer to adapt to the winters I grew up in. I forgot the feeling of being struck in the face as the morning air touches my skin when I leave the house. I’m learning once again how to deal with my lower back clenching up as the -40 air seeps through my jacket.

But I’m somewhat amused by something I am remembering about living through these long Canadian winters.

It connects us.

Here in Canada there’s never a lack on conversation between strangers. As I jiggled my body on the spot to stay warm, pumping gas into my car at -35 degrees Celsius because I didn’t plan my week better, I caught the eye of another ice princess one car over doing the same thing. When we notice each other we share a knowing smile about how ridiculous this arctic tundra experience is and then wished each other a good day as we got back in our cars.

“Stay warm!” Is what strangers say to each other around here lately.

Making it through the harsh winter seems to bond Canadians in a similar way that living on a compound in the Congo can. You share an experience. Only here, the experience is your nostrils freezing together outside if you happen to have a runny nose.

Yesterday we drove by a teenager at a bus stop wearing 3/4 leggings, totally exposing her bare legs from the mid-calf down, in -28 while she waited for the bus.

I remember you. I thought to myself as I drove by, smirking as I cruised on to school drop off. I was her. Visions of me walking to high school with hair that had quite literally turned to icicles on my head because I was too cool to dry my hair, came flooding back to my memory.

My kids are right, Canadian teenagers are crazy! But it’s what makes them Canadian.

I’m happy to report that I too, am (slowly)adapting. Yesterday in that -28 weather, I forgot my mitts, and I didn’t cry. Perhaps it was because I was afraid the tears would have froze to my face. But maybe I’m just getting acclimatized to the weather again. Tears or not, you can bet your bottom that I ran like hell to get to my car!

So, I’m adjusting and adapting like the true chameleon that I am, wearing a giant sweater, snuggled up to a warm cup of coffee, waiting, with frosty breath, for spring to arrive.