When I picked her up from daycare, she had just woken up from her nap and didn't know that it was snowing yet. When I told her she lit up and ran to the window. I don't know how this is possible, but I am positive that this girl remembers last winter, and since the summer she has been asking me when it is going to be "snow time" again. We haven't talked much about snow time lately, so it was a totally unepxected way to wake up.
The whole (treacherous) drive home she was enthralled with the snow and couldn't wait to get home and build a snowman. When we got there, I realized I had no idea where any of her snow clothes were, and we were lucky enough to at least find her boots. I threw on Mike's snowboarding clothes and we headed out the door.
Once we got down to this whole snowman business, I realized that I actually have no idea how to make a snowman. It turns out I'm completely inept when it comes to snowman building. I guess I'd never attempted to do it on my own, and really, I should never be allowed to do it again. Ella insisted that our decrepit snowblob have a face, so I ran inside and grabbed the first thing I could find, some multicolored goldfish, and set about giving old Frosty a mouth, button nose, and two eyes made out of, well, like I said, goldfish.
This all happened while the storm was actually going on, so it was windy and cold and wet and both of us were actually pretty miserable, but that stubborn little girl refused to admit it. I finally coaxed her inside with the promise of hot chocolate, but once we got in there she kept asking for more snow. So, I scooped a bunch of snow into a plastic cup and handed it to her with a spoon. She couldn't have been happier. She went and sat in the living room and finished every last drop of snow. She kept yelling into the kitchen, "Mom! This tastes like water!"as if this was very surprising.
This morning she decided to wake up at 4:30 am, so we spent a few hours snuggled on the couch and watched as the sun slowly illuminated the front yard. And whether you're two or thirty-one, or ninety-five, there is nothing so beautiful as a blanket of snow on a New England town.
Happy Snow Day.
|Cold, wet, and loving every minute|