It’s been a long winter.
The kind that Laura Ingalls Wilder writes about in “Little House in the Prairie” with bitter winds, finger-numbing cold and mountains of snow (albeit without the luxuries of a central heating system or access to stimulating diversions like the grocery store and DirecTV).
Couped up inside our cozy rancher, I found myself deploying increasingly strange ways to occupy the girls.
Dressing up the pets …
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| Delaney was not amused. |
Playing “Everybody in Dad’s Pants!”* …
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| Note to self: The demobilizing quality of two kids in one pair of pants might make them useful for timeouts in the future. |
And finally, venturing into the Pennsylvania tundra for a little extreme swinging …
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| Jovie was nearly asleep in this picture. |
Squirrel sightings were rare (the streets in our neighborhood have not been very wagon friendly the past few months.) But when I did spot them, I noted that they, too were rarely without their layers:
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Get them some mittens! Those poor stony paws!
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Apparently, they did make it to Sochi … even medaling:
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| Looks like he got a silver in nut hoarding.** |
But they’ve recently packed up their super-heavy winter wear, preparing to celebrate their Irish heritage:
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| Where’s the Guinness?! |
We’ve finally been able to play outside without the requisite half hour spent layering and bundling.
Although, we were hit with a touch of Seasonal Confusion Disorder:
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| The girls alternated between playing in the sandbox, romping in this leaf pile and scaling the remaining pile of snow in our yard. |
The plants, at least aren’t confused. They seem to know that despite a dip in temperatures today, that they’ll be the victors in the battle against winter.
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| Suck it snow! |
And though there’s still another week until the equinox, my heart already feels lighter.
* Ahem. Get your minds out of the gutter.
** See above.