Winter in the Driftless Area is beautiful, but it can also be long. When the hills disappear under snow and the wind settles into the valleys, even kids who live for the outdoors start bouncing off the walls. I know this firsthand. My two boys would much rather be sledding a coulee or tromping through the woods, but when it’s dangerously cold or the roads are bad, we’ve had to get creative about staying inside without losing our minds.
Over the years, we’ve learned that winter indoors doesn’t have to mean endless screen time (though I’ll admit there are days when a movie marathon saves everyone). The Driftless has a quiet magic in winter, and with a little effort, that feeling can carry inside too.
One of our go-to escapes has always been the local library. Driftless libraries are small but mighty, and they feel especially welcoming in winter.
I’ve spent many snowy afternoons tucked into a corner chair while one kid disappeared into graphic novels and the other hovered near the computers or interactive learning stations. Winter reading challenges have been a lifesaver, turning reading into a game and giving the boys something to work toward when outdoor adventures are on pause. Libraries here aren’t just about books—they’re warm community hubs where kids can be curious without pressure.
When we need a bigger change of scenery, museums have been worth the drive. Places like the Children’s Museum of La Crosse feel designed for winter days, when hands-on learning beats sitting still. I remember watching my kids bounce from exhibit to exhibit, burning off energy while learning something new—without even realizing it counted as “education.” Even smaller local history museums can surprise you in winter, especially during family days or workshops that focus on wildlife, art, or life along the river.
For pure energy release, indoor recreation spaces are essential. Gyms, YMCAs, and community centers have given us a way to move when it’s too cold to be outside safely. One kid gravitates toward anything active—running, climbing, swimming—while the other is happy once there’s a screen involved, even if it’s a scoreboard or interactive display. Having both options under one roof makes these spaces a win for everyone.
At home, creativity has carried us through many cold snaps. One of my boys loves art, and winter is when we let the craft supplies take over the table. Paint, markers, cardboard, glue—sometimes the projects are planned, sometimes they’re gloriously chaotic. The other kid isn’t as interested in crafts, but even he’ll get pulled in when there’s a practical goal, like building something that can later be used in a game or displayed on a screen. Winter has taught me that creativity doesn’t always look the same for every kid.
We also try to keep their connection to the outdoors alive, even when we’re stuck inside. We’ve done bird-watching through the window, kept nature books close at hand, and talked about what’s happening outside under the snow—where animals are sheltering, how rivers change in winter, and why the Driftless landscape looks the way it does. Sometimes it’s as simple as planning the hikes and paddles we’ll take once things thaw, which reminds them that winter is just one chapter.
Cooking has become one of our most reliable indoor activities. Both kids love being in the kitchen, especially when they’re trusted with real tasks. We’ve baked bread on slow afternoons, experimented with new recipes, and turned dinner into a collaborative project. Cooking keeps hands busy, teaches patience, and fills the house with warmth—literal and otherwise. On especially cold days, it feels like the heart of the house.
Music, movies, and technology also have their place, and I’ve stopped feeling guilty about that. One kid will happily disappear into an art project while the other dives into a game or documentary, headphones on, fully absorbed. Winter has taught me that engagement matters more than the format. If they’re learning, creating, or genuinely interested, it counts.
Some of our favorite days have come from staying home and leaning into imagination. We’ve built indoor obstacle courses, staged scavenger hunts, and turned the living room into a campsite complete with sleeping bags and stories about Driftless wildlife. These days don’t require much money or planning, just the willingness to embrace a little chaos.
And sometimes, winter asks us to slow down. On the quietest days, we pull out puzzles, stack blankets into reading corners, or just sit together watching the snow fall. Driftless winters have a way of inviting stillness, and I’ve learned that kids benefit from that too.
Keeping outdoor-loving kids entertained indoors isn’t always easy, but winter in the Driftless has taught our family resilience, creativity, and flexibility. These months are part of the rhythm of life here, and when we meet them with intention, they can be just as meaningful as the days spent outside on the hills.
By Willow Hart