We finally made it. To the snow. Pieced together in various articles of snowgear borrowed from generous friends. We arrived bundled up. Overflowing with excitement.
We left exhausted, and swearing off another snow day all together.
It. Was. Bad.
As sweet as these photos are, the reality was a mess of screaming kids. Stretched to the limits because it was way past their nap time, because their gloves wouldn't stay on, because the snow "HURT!" and the ice kicked them all over the place while trying to make it up that snow bank. Arlo made it happily down a few sledding hills and Leon too, but overall, the best part about the day was my sister's box of peanut butter sandwiches, and these photos - that, in ten years down the line, will replace the stinging disappointed of our day. When we've long forgotten just how awful it really was, how much frustration we had to overcome to simply make it back to the car with all those sleds and screaming children, and might only remember little Rex in that cute snow suit. And Arlo's first sled ride, and Claire building her snowman, and Leon acting as if he was paralyzed by the snow and calling hilariously for someone to "Help" him with "Something!!"
We might forget all of that. But the violent sled crash, on the way back due to a slick patch of ice at the bottom, which took out a couple innocent bystanders We'll probably always remember.
That, and the snowman.
As for another snow day.
It will be a long. Long time.