Reflections on a Snowy Morning

A few inches of snow on the ground: nature's playground on our deck.

Sweet. "Boys, when you're finished with breakfast, you can go outside to play in the snow all by yourselves!!"

(Insert my most excited voice. Since I have minimal desire to join them. Sometimes I do. Just not today.)

Breakfast is finished in record time. Check.

Break out the snow pants, gloves, hats, boots, and coats. Let the warm clothes commence.

My head is filled with visions of Ralphie and Randy in A Christmas Story.

And also Cliff Huxtable as he dresses Rudy's little chubby friend for a day in the snow, flipping him upside down in the process.

And also, toddler gloves are a joke.

Tucker is in his jammies and snow pants, when he announces proudly,"Look at me, Tyler. I'm Joseph." As in, Jesus' daddy? Apparently he believes Joseph was appropriately dressed in arctic wear.

Finally, I send them out - with the dog, thank you - to play and and play and play. Trucks and bulldozers have a whole new appeal when there is fresh powder to truck and bulldoze.

I take a picture to send to Traveling Daddy. Look at our snow cherubs. Darling and so self contained.

I settle in with my coffee and my laptop at the dining room table, right next to the sliding glass door. I can see and hear it all. Now this is a plan. Nature's playground is also an excellent babysitter.

Perhaps I'll tick away at a few writing/editing projects this morning. The ones I usually save for naptime and bedtime. Look at me... getting ahead.

Knock. Knock. "Mommy, my truck is full of snow."

Hero Mommy teaches him how to tap it on the side of the house to make the packed snow fall to the ground. Tada!

Back to our separate endeavors.

Knock. Knock. "Mommy, my hands are cold."

Ah, yes. The perils of those blasted toddler gloves. Cotton is only warm when it's dry.

Hero Mommy holds his hands for a moment, warms them up, and then sends him on his way.

Knock. Knock. "Mommy, I'm done." "Me too, Mommy."

"Really? Done?"

"Yes."

But what about the snowballs? Snowmen? Snow angels? No dice? Really?

The snow cherubs are cold and wet. And D-O-N-E.

Let the undressing commence. Hero Mommy is not so heroic when the plan has been thwarted.

And now my kitchen is filled with snowpants, hats, gloves, and boots, all lined up to dry.

A short lived adventure. Sigh.