Thursday, February 26, 2015

Playing in the Snow

We have played in the snow a lot these past couple of weeks. 
This picture is hilarious to me for a few reasons.  First, both Nate and Jack are in 4T snow britches.  Neither fits, and I don't care.  Second, Jack's boots.  They're bears, and his hat is a dog, and his mittens are some kind of animal mitten.  

He's a walking zoo.  Further proof?  His dinosaur slippers that he took off to put on his doggy snow boots.

We got about six inches today.

It started last night, and I was so worried about Handsome Hero driving home in it that I stood at our dining room window looking out until he walked up to the door.

 Jack is looking at me through a little hole he made.
Walked up, because he had to leave the car at the foot of the hill.  No one was making it up our hill last night.

 This is not that hill - it's our back yard.  The snow makes things confusing.
There were a bunch of teenagers playing out on the hill in the dark, which was not very dark because of the moonlight reflecting on the snow.  It made me nostalgic for when our kids will do things like that.  What fun!

But remember how I was glued to the dining room window?  I was standing in the dark, but they saw me watching, my shadow outlined by the lights from other rooms.

They quickly moved up the street away from the creepy, crazy, neighbor lady.  I was really loving watching how much fun they were having, but if I had seen me standing there, I would have moved, too.

We aren't ready for moonlit snow playing, but sunlit snow playing was great, too!

This was an expression I saw a lot from this one, my feeler of all strong emotions.

This one loved it, too.  He's just more mellow.

This one, well, he's a mix of the two. 

In the snow, though, he was in a constant state of wonder.

They weren't sure what to do with the snow at first.  The other snows have been really icy, and this was not, so they took time trying to figure it out.

He liked it.

He, um, liked it, too.  It tasted good, anyway.

Jack had everything under control.
I got this, Mom.

This picture is included purely so you can be jealous of Nate's lashes.

I have at least twenty pictures of him eating snow.  All taken at different times.

Jack is my most timid child.  I was really proud of him for being willing to engage in a snowball fight with me.

Ella, stop it.  Stop growing.  You are killing me.

Rather than wear a hood, this one wore three hats.  I'm sure it was way more comfortable than just wearing the hood. 

Yes, that was sarcastic. 

Snow angels were on the docket, naturally.

As was a snow fort. 

This winter I am learning something very important about my eldest.

She will spend hours creating the setting for something that takes only minutes to enact, whether it be a play, a tea party, a store front.

The creation of the snow fort was more important than the actual fight.  It's the process, and the reward is in simply completing the goal.
This one was itching for the fight.  I think.  He may have just been hungry.
Just as with his sister, I'm learning more about this boy, too.  He does not have fears that keep him from doing things, per se, but he does decide all of a sudden that he just. can't. do. something.  And then he won't try.

Mom, I'm scared to go down this slide that I've gone down a hundred times when there wasn't soft snow on which to land.

Is it mean that I made him do it?

I am afraid that if I don't make him take some chances, he'll create this limited world for himself.

At least this time I knew it was the right thing to do.  If only every time were this simple.

We had to build a snowman, of course.  A real beaut, eh?  What?  You don't see it?  It's that mound sculpture right there with three dots eyes and nose, of course.

Oh, this is better.  We added a mouth.

No snowman is complete without wonky branchy arms!


P.S.  Tell me that kid up there isn't the cutest five-year-old you've ever seen?

P.P.S. Does Mr. Snowman look just a little angry?

P.P.P.S.  I am very well aware that most every snowman made today is being called by a certain Scandinavian sounding name originating in a certain very popular Disney movie, but I just can't bring myself to do it.

P.P.P.P.S.  Maybe that's why he's mad?

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