Snow Days

Sunday the snow started to fall.  When we got home from church in the early afternoon there was just a dusting on he ground, but snow is snow, so snow clothes were dug out and the kids could hardly stand still long enough to get all bundled up.  They came in more muddy than snowy since as they slid around in the snow, they were more in grass and dirt, but they had fun nonetheless.  

        Later in the afternoon, the snow started coming down again.  This time it came down heavy and thick, covering everything in white. The big kids and I went on a walk leaving Mike in the warm house with napping Mason.  There is something so magic about that first snow of the year.  Neighbors were outside playing and there was almost a tangible feeling of excitement in the air.  Although we had just planned on going around the neighborhood, we heeded the siren calls of the hill by Little Man's elementary school and went for a few minutes of sledding.  Or maybe I just gave into the kids earnest, slightly dramatic begging.  I believe Little Man's exact words were, "Please Mommy, I'll do ANYTHING.  ANYTHING!  I will clean the whole house, just please can we go sledding."  We were going over to my mom's for dinner, so I said they could each do ten sleds.

 Monday:  This was Martin Luther King Day.  The kids played out in the backyard for a while in the early afternoon and then Mike came home early because of the weather.  He still had to work, so we left Mason napping again with him to sled at the school.  The kids loved it.  We stayed for well over an hour and we only left because it was getting dark.  When we got home, they continued to play in the backyard, in the dark, until dinner.  I was amazed at how long they lasted.
        To me, snow days seem to lend themselves to those moments in parenting where you just want to freeze time and take it all in.  The little rosy cheeks, bright excited eyes, the bundled bodies twirling in the snow trying to catch a snowflake on their tongue.
      And when they come in and snow clothes are in a heaping pile, hot chocolate is made.  As I fill their mugs with cocoa and marshmallows and their little bodies thaw out, I find myself hoping that their minds are being filled with these memories as well.  That they will grow up and remember how fun snow days were, the magic, the excitement, the coziness of our home.

 Little Man as he was coming in.


Tuesday:  School was two hours late, which gave us enough time to build some snowmen in the backyard, we actually had enough to make our whole family in snow form.  Mason has been fascinated by the snow and loves to go to the window and look at it.  He always wants to go out, but never lasts long when he does.  This morning was the longest he ever lasted.  He walked around happily for about twenty minutes while I helped the kids with the snowmen.  Every once in a while, we'd hear a little "uh oh" and we'd turn to see Mason toppled over somewhere in his snowsuit unable to get up because he was so bundled.  I would pick him up and off he'd waddle again.

Wednesday morning we woke up to probably five inches of snow.  Of course everyone wanted to play again, but some of the magic was wearing off.  Mason lasted about two minutes, so I put him in his highchair in the kitchen with a snack right near the sliding glass door so he could watch us and I could see him. When he was done, I went inside and let the big kids stay out.  Remember the magic I described on Monday?  Wednesday....not so much.  Crying, whining, fighting, and breakdowns seemed to be theme.  By mid morning, Kiwi and Little Man were having some mandatory quiet time on their beds with books, while Mason and I shut ourselves in his room.  Him with his cars, myself on the phone to my sister.  After a break from each other, everyone was doing much better and the kids even pulled it together enough that we were able to meet some friends at the park to go sledding.  Mike even took some time off work (he was working from home again) and went with us.  Mason surprised us all by loving the sled.  He would laugh every time we got to the bottom of the hill and would want to go again.  We lasted for about a half an hour before we headed back home.  The wind was blowing pretty good and freezing rain was starting to replace the snow.

          We made snowflakes out of tortillas and powdered sugar.  

      Today brought ice.  Crazy, dangerous, force you to stay holed up in your house, but stunningly beautiful ice.  I walked up the street this evening to get the mail (and came back empty handed, because the keyhole was completely iced over) and it was if the sky had deposited a frozen blanket over the entire neighborhood and time itself was held captive in it's icy grip.  The street was void of cars driving and the only sound was the crunching of the ice beneath my boots.  It was a little bit of a surreal moment.

Although it is possible that I was so keenly aware of the silent and stillness, because it was such a direct contrast or what the inside of my house sounded like.

 I mean, kids were literally climbing the walls (this is Kiwi in her "nastics (gymnastics) clothes" practicing her handstands)

Cabin fever anyone?
 
Actually the kids got along well today and I will take full of energy, happy kids, over whiny, fighting kids any day.  And we are warm, we are safe, we have power and heat, and we are together.  So I am happy and praying for those people who do not have those things tonight.