Last night it finally snowed – maybe 3 inches or so, but this morning it is still there and nothing says “Christmas” like evergreen trees frosted with white.
Harry and Ron built their first unassisted snowman. The bottom ball is huge (and kind of brownish, because three inches is not a lot of snow and there is still mud underneath the mat of dead grass). The middle ball is maybe one-third the size. The head is tiny because the snow was quite heavy and they needed to make it small so they could lift it. The carrot nose is probably eight inches long. Altogether, the effect is very snowy-anteater. I love it.
I remembered to give Christmas cards to Harry’s school bus drivers! I even took the time to write little personal notes in them. I have never remembered to do this before. (The other two kids at our bus stop gave them homemade cookies but BABY STEPS, PEOPLE.)
I bundled everyone up this morning for the trip to the bus stop, and since they were already in snowsuits we stayed outside to play. Watching little kids in the snow is always so hilarious – they always act in really peculiar ways.
Pixie: Tried unsuccessfully to make snowballs, because that’s what the big boys were doing. Eventually resorted to standing in front of anyone who was holding a snowball, batting her eyelashes, and saying in her most charming voice “can I hoed it, peese?”
Louis: Stood in one spot. Glared at everyone. Muttered about his mittens being wet. (At drop-off his dad said “he’s being uncooperative this morning. Every time I needed him to do something, he screamed “NO!” and kicked me as hard as he could. And then laughed about it.”) I’ll be curious to see how Louis does in snow when he’s not pissed at the universe for existing.
Baby G: Freaked the fuck out – remember, this is his first snowstorm because he was a newborn last winter. Crawled and scrabbled and poked and manhandled for a good twenty minutes, then suddenly realized snow is cold and demanded to go inside.
Daisy: This is also Daisy’s first snowstorm. Her usual state of being when we’re outside is sitting in one spot, staring around in open-mouthed terror/wonder, and flat-out refusing to move – despite being an always-on-the-go hurricane when she’s indoors. Today, she did try to crawl – eventually – but her down-filled one-piece snowsuit effectively had her pinned, and so mostly she managed to fall over on her face, where she then lay very still, whimpering quietly, until I picked her back up.
Ron: Oh, the difference when one is almost five! He dresses himself in appropriate clothing. He merrily plays and if a mitten falls off he just puts it back on, because NBD. When he’s cold and wet he comes in, strips everything off, and hangs it neatly by the heater so it will dry. You people who get all gooey over babies are CRAZY. Older kids for the win!
As I’m composing this blog post, Ron has been teaching Louis and Pixie “Santa Claus is Coming to Town“. He’s also explaining very carefully that the lyrics mean Santa won’t come if you’re not good. I should probably say something about how Santa is the spirit of love & acceptance and blah-blah-blah, but mostly I’m just saying nothing because if a little healthy fear keeps Louis from kicking his father in the nadgers tonight during the bedtime routine, then maybe that’s an acceptable situation.