We just had our first substantial snow here in the Midwest. The girls have waited months for this snow. There is just something magical about snow; to adults and children alike.
We all had high hopes that we would have a white Christmas but it wasn’t meant to be. We did receive a small blizzard the day after and have been living in a winter wonderland ever since.
The girls couldn’t wait to put on their snow gear and frolic in the wintery wonderland. Me, I grew up outside of Chicago and I have a lifetime of memories of freezing in the cold winter snow, sledding, building snowmen and trying to knock down my nemesis’ snow fort to last me a lifetime. As much as I now hate the cold, I want all those memories for my girls and so I doubled up my layers, dug out my snow boots ( because no Midwestern girl worth her salt doesn’t have snow boots) bundled up my kids and my husband and we walked in the 22 degree weather to the neighborhood park; Rocket park. You can imagine what we went there for?
It’s called Rocket Park because there is a huge hill with a path on it, during the summer the kids use it to ride their bikes down. As a parent, it scares the hell out of me because visions of my girls’ going down the steep at hill at warp speed sends terror through my mommy heart. But during the winter, the path is compacted and iced and children from all over the addition walk to the park with their toboggans and sleds in hand and one by one they fly down the hill; squealing with delight until they come to a full stop. Then they walk back up the steep hill and repeat the process for hours or until they lose feeling in their toes, whichever comes first.
That’s what we did yesterday.
My 7-year-old made the trek to the top of the hill with her father but once there and looking down, decided perhaps Rocket hill was something she would graduate to at a later date.
The Big Guy, however, was chomping at the bit to slide down the hill. It was only the fact that there were so many children waiting patiently in line that he decided against it. I suspect that one morning I will find him at Rocket Park sliding joyfully down the steep hill by himself while all the neighborhood children are at school.
The girls opted for a somewhat smaller but equally as steep hill on the golf course and they loved that they didn’t have to share it with anyone else, except their daddy. An hour later; 27 snow angels, a couple head-over-heel wipeouts, a few unsolicited failed snowball fight attempts and a lifetime of memories later we headed back home with rosy cheeks and runny noses. But the girls wanted more, as little people are known for doing every thing in excess especially coming off the Christmas of excess high. They did not want the magic to end.
I told them that we will save more for tomorrow because you can’t accumulate a lifetime of memories in a single day. We have a lifetime together to make memories with them, and their children and their children’s children. I hope.