There’s No Such Thing as Bad Weather by Linda McGurk
I first read this book when I was pregnant with Odin—when everything motherhood lived in the land of “someday.” I remember highlighting passages and thinking, Yes, this is how I want to raise my son. At the time, it felt like inspiration.
Now, five years later, I’ve come back to it with rain boots by the door, a well-worn orange rain coat hanging up to dry, and a little boy who knows the joy of being outside in all kinds of weather. Rereading it this weekend wasn’t about dreaming—it was about recognizing that we’re already living the values I had once hoped to give him. Coincidentally, I spent most of the time with this book by a campfire, sipping coffee, out of cell service, while we camped in the woods for weekend.
It felt like someone gently took my hand and said, “Yes, this matters. Keep going.”
Another moment that really spoke to me is how deeply rooted these outdoor values are in Scandinavian culture. It’s not just about fresh air—it’s cultural inheritance. Spending time outside, no matter the weather, isn’t a parenting trend—it’s a tradition. It’s woven into childhood, community, and even national identity. Reading this book again reminded me that every time we step outside— we’re passing down something bigger. We’re passing down a cultural rhythm that values simplicity, connection, and resilience and that’s a legacy I want my son to carry proudly.
This book touches on two core elements of Scandinavian life. Hygge and friluftsliv. Hygge, the cozy comfort found in simple moments—like warm socks, candlelight, and hot cocoa after a rainy walk—pairs beautifully with friluftsliv, the deep-rooted love of being outdoors. It’s not one or the other; it’s the rhythm of both that creates balance. We’re not just raising kids; we’re celebrating both wild freedom and quiet togetherness.
As a mom raising a little Norwegian, so much of what McGurk describes was deeply validating. To see these parenting choices supported by both research and real-life stories was quietly reassuring—especially when the world around us treats some of these choices as unconventional.
Here’s some spark notes:
🌧 It’s not about just “toughing it out” in the weather—it’s about building something deeper.
Yes, we go outside when it’s cold and wet. But it’s not just for the fresh air (though that’s a win). It’s because being in nature teaches our kids grit, calm, curiosity, and connection. It reminds them (and me) that we don’t need perfect conditions to enjoy life.
🪵 Play doesn’t have to be polished and planned to be valuable.
My son builds with sticks, throws rocks into creeks, and digs holes just to see what’s there. Sometimes I wonder—should I be doing more? Giving more structure? This book reminds me it’s more than enough. He’s learning problem-solving, resiliency, and independence in the most natural way possible.
🌲 What I’m doing might not look impressive now—but the payoff is coming.
This book gave me peace. Because while no one’s giving out awards for outdoor play, I know my son is building lifelong benefits: confidence, calm, creativity. Even if he doesn’t realize it now, he’ll carry those roots with him.
So yeah. I’ll keep doing what I’m doing. Not because it looks good. But because it feels good. For Odin. For me. For all of us.

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