The kids and I walked out to the bus stop this morning in about 2 inches of beautiful, undisturbed snow. My daughter was studying the snowflakes landing on my jacket and dancing around trying to catch falling flakes on her tongue. My son was creating tracks in the snow, kicking around as much as he could while waiting for the bus. It was a magical morning.
Growing up in southern New Mexico, snow nearly always meant school delays and closures. I remember seeing a few flakes in the morning and getting all prepared for some snowy fun. The funny thing is that we often only ended up with ½ inch of snow on the ground. But in New Mexico, that was enough to stop life as we knew it. We’d spend all day in that tiny layer of snow, building all manner of snowmen and forts, having snowball fights and freezing our rear ends off.
When it snows here in Boulder, I just stuff my kids into coats and snow boots and send them on their way. I can’t help but picture The Christmas Story where the little brother Randy is so bundled that he can’t put his arms down. It’s not quite that old here and I’m not too prone to over-reaction when it comes to being out the snow, so my kids can move freely. But I admit, I always chuckle a bit when they come running inside, freezing cold, peeling off wet, frozen clothes and begging for hot chocolate.
I kind of like the snow.
I'm generally pulled in a million different directions and I wouldn't trade it for the world. Here's a glimpse of my life - hope you enjoy it! And if there's a big lapse between posts, well, that's the way life goes in Amy's world.
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