Thanks to the bitter temperatures the snow wasn’t a complete bust.
With just about 1/2 of what was predicted, our 2.5 inches lasted a couple of days…plenty of time for some family fun and afternoon hot chocolate.
After much anticipation, the snow started falling around 6PM Tuesday night. It was completely dark here by then and my son was slightly disappointed when he was relegated to making bubble balls in the bath tub verses snow balls outside. Trying to explain to an almost two year old that flurries don’t offer enough to play in and 15 degrees, dark, wet and windy don’t offer a great opportunity to sled is a hard conversation to have.
Thanks to Nana and Papa for their loving distractions and fun sleepover, we made it through the night.
Wednesday morning we woke up elated to see the ground covered with the white stuff. We shared a hot breakfast of lattes, cinnamon toast, goat cheese and spinach omelets before layering up to go outside. I must admit, it was completely comical watching us dig through vacuum sealed bags of “winter gear” to locate things that actually fit. I ended up wearing long johns, pajama pants and white terry pants over top…completely not waterproof (or stylish), but warm enough to make it. We did find our ski jackets, so that was helpful and my husband borrowed gloves from my father, otherwise he would have died after 60 seconds outside.
When we were confident our Florida blood could brave the cold, we ventured out with our boots zipped up (hubby in his sneakers, also not water proof) and an audience. Of course, both sets of grandparents were present to watch our son sled down the hill for the first time. After all, it could take four more years before this phenomenon happens again. Dad, wasn’t afraid to jump right on the green plastic toboggan, plop the baby down in his lap and go with absolutely no hesitation or trial run…slight mistake. About half way down the more than 60 yard hill, I heard a deafening wail. And then the tears and nose slime followed. My son was mortified. Remember the first time your dad, uncle or grandfather ever took you down a waterslide and put you upfront…wrong spot for a kid!!! The water blasts you in the face and the force that rides behind you compounds it. You certainly can’t reason with a 23 month old enough to close his eyes or mouth or both!
After jumping off at the bottom, my son was ‘over it’…he took off, trotting away, mumbling and crying, wiping the snow and his tears from his face and ignoring anyone who called his name. My husband was shocked his little rebel didn’t LOVE the thrill ride as much as he did and looked slightly defeated with his toboggan still in tow. At that point, I jumped on a my plastic saucer (impossible to steer), rode the hill, rolled off at the bottom and caught up with my very disappointed son. He was still wondering along the base of the hill, at this point laugh-crying because he so loved being outside. I explained to him (the best I could) what just happened and asked him if he wanted to go again with mommy. Not so much, but he couldn’t help but just love being present. He ran, walked, fell a few times, tried to jump, made a snow ball, threw it and then repeated…for about 30 minutes. I was able to ride a few more times as was hubby and my father. After a good while outside, it was about that time, my nose was numb, my fingers burned, we were soaking wet and our audience dwindled. My little Rudolf protested some, but with the promise of hot chocolate and a cookie, I didn’t have to drag him kicking and screaming. We finished up the day with good company, playing trucks and watching back the ‘baby’ videos on the IPad. Here are a few more pictures of the snow day that was…
So, here’s my thank you to the snow (and our family). This was the complete highlight of our week…make that month!