Life has gotten in the way of blogging--again--which is not necessarily a bad thing.
I'm going to take a break for awhile.
In the meantime, I hope you and your families have a wonderful Christmas!
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
gloves are of the devil
This morning was a yelling morning.
What a terrible way to start the week. Winter is here, and I’m still getting our gear organized. (Which is to say, I finally put away our bathing suits and beach towels and replaced them with gloves and hats.)
The problem is with the gloves. I’ve decided that children’s winter wear is of the devil. Seriously. The gloves all get together at night and scatter—quick! We match! Run to the other side of the house!
We probably have eight matching pairs of gloves for the noisy boys, which we keep in the blue plastic basket in the entryway. (I know. I am SO CLASSY.) In the morning, it should be fairly simple to dig out a pair of gloves, a hat, and scarf and get geared up for the walk to school. Except it’s not. Not even close. Which is why I start yelling things like, "If you'd put your gloves away when you come in, you'd be able to find them," and "I don't care if they don't match, just put them on. We're going to be late."
So there you go. Not a good excuse to yell at everyone. I’m redoubling my efforts at organizing our winter gear and actually bought two more pairs of mittens today to add to the stash.
Bring it on, snow. Bring it on.
What a terrible way to start the week. Winter is here, and I’m still getting our gear organized. (Which is to say, I finally put away our bathing suits and beach towels and replaced them with gloves and hats.)
The problem is with the gloves. I’ve decided that children’s winter wear is of the devil. Seriously. The gloves all get together at night and scatter—quick! We match! Run to the other side of the house!
We probably have eight matching pairs of gloves for the noisy boys, which we keep in the blue plastic basket in the entryway. (I know. I am SO CLASSY.) In the morning, it should be fairly simple to dig out a pair of gloves, a hat, and scarf and get geared up for the walk to school. Except it’s not. Not even close. Which is why I start yelling things like, "If you'd put your gloves away when you come in, you'd be able to find them," and "I don't care if they don't match, just put them on. We're going to be late."
So there you go. Not a good excuse to yell at everyone. I’m redoubling my efforts at organizing our winter gear and actually bought two more pairs of mittens today to add to the stash.
Bring it on, snow. Bring it on.
Friday, December 5, 2008
first snow
Monday morning we woke up to a fresh blanket of snow. Oh the excitement! We pulled out all our snow gear (no small feat) and did a happy dance while we walked to school. And after school, being the fun Mom that I am, I suggested we go sledding.
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
We had snacks and bundled up and headed for our favorite snow hill. The big one. And that’s where my plan began to unravel.
The hill itself was great. The noisy boys enthusiastically grabbed their sleds and ran to the top while I walked with the toddler. Very, very slowly.
By the time we got to the top, I wondered if maybe I should have taken the boys to a smaller hill, since sledding was a new thing for our toddler.
I climbed onto the red sled with him and off we went down the hill. He loved it. “Fast! Fast! More fast?” he said when we got to the bottom. Of the really big hill.
We started the long climb up and were about a quarter of the way there when his boot slipped off the first time. The snow was deep and his hand-me-down boots weren’t a perfect fit. So I put boot back on, letting go of the sled in the process. Great. Back down the hill I went, to get the sled. Then up the hill again, with the toddler and his retarded boots. We were about halfway up when the toddler sweetly asked, “Mommy carry you?” He was tired.
So I carried the toddler and the sled up the very big hill.
It was a long afternoon.
Thankfully, the promise of hot cocoa lured everyone off the hill.
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
We had snacks and bundled up and headed for our favorite snow hill. The big one. And that’s where my plan began to unravel.
The hill itself was great. The noisy boys enthusiastically grabbed their sleds and ran to the top while I walked with the toddler. Very, very slowly.
By the time we got to the top, I wondered if maybe I should have taken the boys to a smaller hill, since sledding was a new thing for our toddler.
I climbed onto the red sled with him and off we went down the hill. He loved it. “Fast! Fast! More fast?” he said when we got to the bottom. Of the really big hill.
We started the long climb up and were about a quarter of the way there when his boot slipped off the first time. The snow was deep and his hand-me-down boots weren’t a perfect fit. So I put boot back on, letting go of the sled in the process. Great. Back down the hill I went, to get the sled. Then up the hill again, with the toddler and his retarded boots. We were about halfway up when the toddler sweetly asked, “Mommy carry you?” He was tired.
So I carried the toddler and the sled up the very big hill.
It was a long afternoon.
Thankfully, the promise of hot cocoa lured everyone off the hill.
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