One crisp, fall morning at the bus stop is all it takes to have me start freaking out about the impending winter. Aside from the bone-chilling wind that whips down our street, a short walk from the Long Island Sound, my hands despise the cold weather more than I do. Doused with a recurring bout of seasonal eczema, I slather on more hand lotion from December-March than a masseuse. But enough about me…I can’t help but wonder what the mom up at the bus stop at the top of the hill will do. She’s got a newborn in tow every morning her third grader boards the bus, so she may just have to put that stroller away once the cold hits. Either that, or invest [&hellip