Snow Please (and Happy Birthday, Dorothy!)

We had a few mini snow storms in December, and although they were wimpy by New England standards, I was quite pleased since we really have had no snow to speak of for a little under three years.  I know this for a fact, since today is Dorothy's third birthday and the December in which she was born, followed by that February broke all snow records for Philadelphia, yet since I picked up Dorothy in March of 2011, we have had no more than about two inches twice.

And Dorothy is a Maine girl who loves to frolic in the snow!  And I love snow unless I have to travel in it!  (Although I do have an irrational fear of going to work on a snowy day and getting stuck in the city.  I tell myself it should be a pipe dream, since I could stay in a hotel, say, and get my first uninterrupted night of sleep since Owen was born.  But still, my boys need me!)

But where was I?  I am blogging rusty, so you'll have to forgive my digressions.  Anyway, I love snow and am hoping that we will get a big storm this year--I'm talking about 24 inches of snow.  I'm thinking I'll have to get my sister, Martha, to visit, since whenever she is scheduled to fly here there is a storm that prevents it happening.

But we had at least two respectable snows here in December--each about four or five inches.  I even had a snow day on one of them, and stayed home and played with Owen.  I took him outside in his snow pants, parka, boots, and mittens.  Of course, in a cliched way, it took me about 30 minutes to get him bundled up, which ended up being more than the time we spent outside.  He liked it though!  He gets frustrated with his coat, as it is a little stiff and is designed for a kid with a neck like a giraffe, whereas Owen is a Boy With Very Little Neck.  But he was intrigued.  Here are some pictures of our house and yard and Owen in the snow:

Looking at the pictures makes me wonder--just how do you put mittens on a toddler?  I can only get them half on and then they hang all skewed and bunched and make his hands useless.  There has to be a better way.

Poor Dorothy wasn't able to enjoy these two storms much, since she had injured her leg with some vigorous hill-running, and so was on bed rest more or less.  She did very much enjoy the snow in her yard; we just didn't let her do much frolicking in it.

And I shall end with a picture or two of the birthday girl.  Happy Birthday, Dorothy!  You're my favorite bulldogge, even though I am not your favorite human!

Sneg Edyot

We had our first real snowfall in two years this past weekend.  And as I write those words I am rolling my eyes a bit, since it snowed only four inches or so.  But as a big fan of snow, those four inches are better than nothing!  And along with the modest inchage, it did seem like a real snowstorm, complete with white on all the tree branches and delicious snowstorm hush.  

Since last year we only had a dusting, this was Dorothy’s first real experience in the snow—and she loved it!  She wanted to be out in her yard even more than normal, and once there she raced around in the snow and sprang and pranced.  Her father threw snowballs for her and she tried to catch them, getting all confused when they disappeared into the ground.  And then later when Sean took her for a walk, she refused to walk on the shoveled bits and spent the whole time with feet on snow.  Or in the air above the snow.

That’s my girl!

I took Owen out into the snow at one point too.  Once he is in his parka, he doesn’t quite fit into the baby bjorn, so I had to lug him around like a slippery sack of potatoes.  But he was very interested in the whole kit and caboodle, and spent the entire time outside looking around at his surroundings in awe:

Here we are standing under the tree in our front yard!  

Now I am ready for a snowfall of multiple feet!  Twenty-four inches should do it, as long as we keep our electricity....

Next Time We'd Like At Least A Foot

On Saturday morning Dorothy experienced her first snow (well, since leaving Maine at 10 weeks, that is).  Unfortunately, it wasn't a serious snow--just about three inches.  And to make things worse, when we first went out in it, it was sleeting hard.  So because of the sleet hitting her back, Dorothy wasn't sure if she wanted to be out in this questionable substance.

At first she marched, lifting her feet high with each step and putting her feet down with precision.  But by the time we reached the park, where on the grass the snow was a little deeper, Dorothy had decided that she liked snow very much!

We walked all through the park, and Dorothy alternated between doing the snow zoomies and bouncing all around, and taking the time to sniff each and every dog footprint left in the snow.  It went a little like this:  ZOOMIES! sniff, sniff, sniff, ZOOMIES! sniff, snuffle, sniff, sniff, ZOOMIES! etc.  It was as if she was physically spelling out a message in Morse code, and that message was SNOW IS FUN!

Which just goes to show that you can take the girl out of Maine, but you can't take Maine out of the girl.

Dorothy thinking, I was promised hot cocoa: