Snowpocalypse II

Blizzard of 2010, Snowpocalyse, Snowmagedon, Snowtorius B.I.G - call it what you will (preferably NOT the later) but we are buried. I'm going with Snowpocalpse II, because I was calling the 19" we got in December the original Snowpocalypse.

I don't ever get homesick, but I have to admit this winter makes feel like I'm right back in Western PA, and I like it. As a child, my cousin Davey and I were tossed out of doors by my grandmother in every sort of weather. 100 degree heat? Stay in the shade, get a drink. Blustery winds? Zip up your jacket. Rain? Stay on the patio (it had a roof). Blizzard? Put on 12 layers of clothes, thick socks, grocery bags on your feet, moon boots, mismatched outwear gathered from the basement and closet, 2 pairs of gloves (one snug fitting, one waterproof) add at least 1 scarf, a pair of earmuffs, and a hat...and get out of the house.

To be honest, I don't think we ever complained about being out in the snow. We always had sleds and our imaginations. I remember one day we just sat there, eating fistfuls of snow until we swore it tasted like blueberries. We would build speed bumps to fly over in our sleds and build snow forts, which we favored over boring old snowmen.

This was what the winters of my childhood were made of, and I hope Daniel's are as memorable. I adapted the concept of layers - snug pants, then fleece, then a waterproof layer. He got his thick socks, but I spared him the plastic bags. He got gloves, a hat, and a hood. He was sweating. Guess he did get my thick blood! Out we went, in a blizzard. He LOVED it. He did not want to come in, even after his gloves were soaked, his hands were red, and his eyelashes heavy with snowflakes.
The next day, once the snow was falling lightly, we went out twice. Today, with no snow falling, we walked through what sidewalks were cleared to watch the "dumpy" (dump truck) and the plow move snow.

He helped me shovel-he insisted actually. He moved his fair share of snow in his toy dump truck. He scraped ice from the rear bumper of the car. He would get so brave, running into the snow, until it came up to his ankles. Then came the frantic cries of "help! stuck! help! mommy mommy" I tried showing him that he wasn't stuck, but that he just had to try harder. He flopped down on his butt. "UH oh- Stuck" Now he was stuck, because bending at the waist isn't really an option with 3 pairs of pants on. My job was to plop him back on the path, on his feet.

I hope these are his happy winter memories, because these are my new winter mommy memories.