One of the funnest things about winter is the snow. It is absolutely gorgeous. I love watching it fall--piling and covering each leaf, fencepost, tree, road, and house. It reminds me of the songs, "It's a marshmallow World", and "Let it Snow", and "Winter Wonderland"--all songs I love.
The snow is such a novelty to us. The kids haven't ever been in a real winter, and for Ty and I, it's been 4 years without snow.
Going out to play in the snow is quite the deal. It takes some effort, but if you go out well-prepared, you can stay out for hours keeping toasty warm. The snow isn't the only thing looking like marshmallows--the kids are dressed from head to toe in puffy, warm clothes--I think they look adorable.
I love eating snow, and have taught the kids about it. No yellow snow, no dirty snow, only eat undisturbed snow far from roads and footprints. We had this talk after Chandler was eating it off his half-muddy snow boots while undressing inside the house.
The kids lay on the ground licking up the fluffy white snow, they make snow angels, snow men, and Marissa pulls Chandler on the sled. The kids play and play until Chandler gets so cold, he snaps. Suddenly, he'll come to the glass sliding door, and frantically start pounding on it, wailing and screaming that he has frost-bite. I'm not even sure where he heard about frost-bite, be he is always convinced that he has it. So, he comes inside, shedding layers of clothing as fast as he can, bawling when a foot or hand gets stuck. The bawling continues until a steaming cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows melting on top is in his icy fingers. Eventually the kids' rosy cheeks and nose turn back to normal, and he and Marissa end up giggling while they finish their hot chocolate and try to convince me they need another cup. Then Chandler declares his frost-bite is all better.
Monday, December 22, 2008
It's a Snow Day!
Posted by Kyla at 10:25 AM
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1 comments:
It looks like they love the snow and are not going to take it for granted. I love that you taught them how to eat snow.
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