I Moan About Winter . . .

. . . and then it snows four lush and powdery inches.  It is so bright it hurts my eyes.

 

I’m working from home today, as the winding country roads I take to work are guaranteed to be slippery and dangerous.  Some days I slog through it anyhow, but today I decided to play it safe.  The baby is cooing happily in his play pen.  I have resisted the housework.  It is noon, and I declare this a successful day.

 

Pictures of my niece wrapped up in a bunny snow suit have inspired me to teach Jack about snow angels.  Once the novelty of the play pen wears off, we’ll go dive in.  He is the proud owner of a pair of fire engine red snow pants, inherited from the babysitter.  We’ll see if we can’t fill ’em up with some snow.

 

My parents were here over the weekend, and they had a Wal Mart day for us grown kids.  In other words – you put whatever you want in the basket, and Dad pays for it.  I have too much pride to pillage the woman’s clothes section, though I was tempted to buy some workout gear.  However, I have no shame in supplying my kid with the richness he deserves through the generosity of his grandparents.  We got his first pair of sneakers, his first pair of sandals, a lifejacket, two sets of 24 months spring pajamas, lots of baby snacks.  Note the decidedly summery theme of these purchases?  I was thinking ahead.

 

He hates the shoes, predictably.  He looks like a grown up boy in the pajamas.  He thrills my heart, day after day.  It is fun, after a weekend of FULL HOUSE, to have him to myself.

 

And he’s smiling at me impishly over the rim of the Pack n Play.  I’m off to enjoy him, and the snow, and lunch.  The work can wait.