Monday, October 12, 2009

Ahhh....Global Warming at it's finest! I woke up to snow today. To be honest, there's something pure and calming about standing in the first "real" snowfall of the season. I had my chance to enjoy this once-a-year occurrence while, of all things, taking Kin out to go to "potty". I guess I'm so obsessed with Christmas that the first snowfall triggers an euphoric sensation......but, it quickly left as soon as the first child yelled, "I'm going outside to play! Where's my mittens?"

Arrrrgh....You would think that after 6 kids and going through just a few winters that I'd be o.k. with this. I struggle. They did end up going outside, but I stood firm and did not go into the basement to retrieve the "Black Hole" duffel bag full the boots, hats, scarves, mittens, gloves, snow pants, etc....Yes, that's why it's called the "Black Hole". Children have been known to get lost in it looking for a mitten.

You may think I'm a bad parent for not wanting my children to enjoy their beautiful, glistening surroundings, but experience and years have taught me that "What goes out must come in, and what comes in must go out." It's the law of children and snow. Yes, they play outside for an hour, then they come in for 5 min, then they want to go out again, then in, then out. Well, you get the picture. When's the last time you tried to shove a wet boot on a foot with the liveliness of a dead fish, or try to maneuver a thumb into it's correct position inside a sopping wet mitten with a twisted shifting liner. I, myself, was just not ready for that whole soggy saga so I instructed the kids that if they wanted to go outside they would have to make due with what ever they could find in the ceder chest on the back porch.

What a hoot! They enthusiastically grabbed their coats and ran out to the porch to suit up. Jubal found the only matching pair of mittens, so he was in good shape. Marilla found 2 mis-matched stretchy gloves and 1 pea green mitten, so she put the thin gloves on and then stuck the mitten on her right hand announcing that she was going to switch it back and forth to whatever hand got cold. Reuben ended up with 2 different size mittens and a hat sized for a 6-12 month baby. Andie got stuck into a Lands End fleece snowsuit, size 24 month. Lucky for her, (by this time the mitten supply had dwindled to some ragged, smelly, stiff, questionable items) the ends of the sleeves on her suit folded over on its self to contain the occupants hand in a self-made mitten. Considering that Andie is going to be 4 in the spring and the suit was intended for a child a tad bit smaller, this possesed a small but manageable problem. Her arms were about 2 inches to long. It's amazing how fleece can stretch and how flexible a 3 year olds arms can be.

Elsa found some snow pants that Reuben wore last year and slithered into them. She was in such a hurry that the first time she went out she neglected to put socks on and just slipped her feet into a pair of sneakers. The fact that the snow pants were hitting about 2 inches below her knees didn't help either. About 20 min. later she scooted in the house and announced that it was kind of cold out. I wonder. So, on went a pair of multi-striped ski socks with her pink flowered rain boots. Much better.

Two snow men were rassled into position in our yard. I could see all the action out the kitchen window. And sure enough, "Mom, can we get some carrots for the noses'?"....Jubal ate his before it made it to the declared destination. I marveled at their determination to make the snowmen. They took turns pushing a snow shovel all over the yard, gathering as much snow as they could. I think the snowmen ended up being as much stick and leaf as they did snow.

At the end of the day, I found myself moving a chair out of the living room and replacing it with a wooden drying rack next to the pellet stove. A "must" for all those mis-matched, wet, and dirty; mittens, hats and coats. Kids hovering over their mugs of hot cider filled the bar in the kitchen and Kin, wet from his romp in the snow treated us all to "wet dog" smell. Yum and yuck.

Quote of the day: "Mom, you don't even know what's going on! Elsa should be in prison or something!" -Simeon age 11

No comments:

Post a Comment