I think sometimes that parenthood is a chance for adults to do-over childhood. I want to do everything I think my parents should have done, and everything they did that I loved. I want to play with toys and sing and dance like a fool in the living room.
So when we woke up to 8+ inches of snow this morning, I was stoked. "Let's go play outside in the snow!" I sometimes feel a pang of sadness, growing up so far from my own childhood home, that you two won't have the joys of snow days and two hour delays and sledges and snow boots. I loved that gorwing up. Sure it's a pain sometimes (I remember my second grade Christmas play being cancelled for snow-- how sad I was), but generally, it's pure magic and I want you to have as much magic as possible in your lives.
Simon, you're way too small to play outside, tiny and vulnerable to germs, so you had to make due with looking out the window from the safety of Auntie Jill's arms at the falling flakes while mummy and Juliet played and threw snowballs at the window.
Juliet, you weren't keen at first. "Ewwww, no, wet," was your reply to my suggestion we go play outside, but you got all bundled in layers and wellies and gloves that are way too big for your little hands. And we played. Threw snowballs and caught snowflakes on our tongues. It was fun-- childlike, being cold and excited all at once, rosy-cheeked, and so warm and comfy when we came back indoors and got dry.
I hope you have more days like this, as you grow. I hope we go sledding. I hope you learn to make a really good snowball and that you have better aim than I do with them! Partly because I want you to have that magic, and partly because I want it for myself.
Either way, be snug in your warm little beds now, my angels and dream of dancing snowflkaes.
Snuggly love,
Mummy
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