We had a big snowstorm this weekend. I needed new pics of the kids. We needed to get out & blow cobwebs off. It sounded like a win-win-win! And when the kids all agreed, including this months extra: Kat, it seemed like a perfect storm.
It took a good half hour to get everyone geared up in coats, gloves, hats. Though, let’s be clear, not everyone got a coat, gloves or hat, but we trooped out the door into the piles of snow rather happily & briskly… for at least the first 10 steps. After the first 10 steps Tess apparently took her first real look outside. Snow was everywhere. Even the sidewalks, recently cleared by Cole, were full of snow. The street was nowhere to be found. It was a sea of white!
“Moooooooooo-om!” Poor kiddo didn’t have snowboots. We were, literally, 10 steps from home. I suggested she go back and put on snowboots, but as they’d ruin her outfit she just stomped away in the snow grumbling about cold wet toes.
It only took another 10 steps before the first cold, wet, hard snowball hit the back of my head and dribbled down my neck into my shirt. Why will I never learn to not be near my kids? Ever. Soon enough Cole & Dane were running, and screaming, and throwing snow, rolling in snow, white-washing faces in snow. Sigh. Snow is to be played in but I was hoping for some pretty shots. With combed hair and stuff.
Our street is maybe 15 houses long, then it ends onto farmfields, that end in the forest. I wanted Black Forest In The Snow pictures. The kids were tired of walking after 15 houses. Maybe if they’d actually walked, instead of running around me in circles, dodging snowballs, and rolling on the ground (I mean, Cole is 20!), they wouldn’t have been so tired.
I insisted. They grumbled. We pushed on. In the middle of a snowstorm… as Tess kept announcing every 30 seconds. Like I’m deaf? Not deaf.
We finally stopped, at the edge of farmers field #2, trees filled with snow, stretching out past the path. I asked them to line up on the path, a perfect shot in my head, and they dashed off into the forest. Pulling down branches and raining snow as they ran. What is wrong with my kids!?!?!?
I finally got Dane to stand still, up off the floor, hands at his side and got one picture, ONE, with him looking at the camera. The rest are a blur of child, snow, ground and trees. Amazingly, in between chasing Dane, shaking trees, and tromping through the woods, Cole was perfectly happy to pose for the camera. I wanted smiling. He wanted serious. He won. But I got some great shots of my boy and I’m not complaining! Well, maybe a little.
Tess was grumbly. Her feet were wet and cold. Her eyes were red and puffy (and it’s not the new hamster living in her room! It’s not!). But. The white winter wonderland was captivating. She happily posed for Selfies and helped her brothers launch snow catapults off of trees. For me? Not so much with the happily posing.
In the meantime, our extra-of-the-month, Kat was watching the antics with great amusements. Up until this day, she’d only seen Westberries at home. Racing around from place to place, noses planted in homework, eyes fixed on video games, spoons shoveling food into mouths. She hadn’t yet seen Westberries at play. Out in the wild. It is a sight to behold.
I finally stopped asking for photo’s. I sucked in a metric ton of artic air and yelled for my kids to HUG ME NOW and take a family photo. They stopped. Stood next to me. Kat pushed the button. They scattered.
Why do I have to yell to get what I want? My kids ask the same thing:
“Mom? Why do you yell?” Honestly, because when I talk no one hears me. I think my normal speaking tone must be in the dog range of hearing, because dogs can hear me, I’ve tested this, but my kids can’t.
I wanted a second picture, but my kids were bounding out of the forest, across the path, and into farmer John’s field. Tess was soon taking Selfies from a different angle while Dane rolled around on the floor making snow angels… until Cole realized he was down on the ground and ran straight for him.
Dane is fast as a Jack rabbit, and soon they were deep in the field. Half laughing, half screaming. Poor horseys. Suddenly, for some reason, (telephatic communication?) Dane and Cole were tromping in the field, side by side, slightly apart, laughing hysterically, with Tess giggling and taking photo’s.
Kat & I watched dumbfounded. Why was there no fighting? Why were they giggling? What was going on?
“What are you doing?” I yelled. Because. Talking isn’t heard. And three red, frozen, smiling faces turned to me and completely in sync said:
“We are making a penis in the snow!” Of course. Because. Penises are funny. I didn’t take a picture of this.