Winter is finally here in New England …
… and that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. We’ve only […]
… and that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. We’ve only gotten about an inch of snow that has since melted, and the temperatures have been pretty reasonable. Despite a brief cold snap, it’s been in the 30s and even 40s most days. But as far as little kids go, cold weather doesn’t mean a dang thing.
N goes to pre-K five days a week from 8:45 in the morning til 2:45 in the afternoon, at which time he (along with G) and his ‘school friends,’ as he affectionately refers to them, run amok for a half hour on the school grounds. It’s a wide-open field where the wind can whip making it feel downright nasty out there if the sun isn’t shining.
For me it’s awesome to see because for the first few years of his life, he was home with me for the majority of his first three years on Earth. The daily interaction was mainly with me, which isn’t all that bad, but he didn’t get the social aspect besides at playgroups at a local farm and the library kid’s room. He always talks about his school friends when he’s home and is genuinely a very caring boy.
His best friend, L, was sick and went home from school early before winter break and five days later, N asked if we could call him to see if he’s feeling better, “because I hope he is so he can go to school.” This is the same friend he X’s his Velcro sneakers with (not together), because X’ing them is way cooler than straight across Velcro. They also wear the same sneakers every day even though N has three pairs of sneakers. First day back from break, however, he wore his fancy new Minion slip-ons, ya know, because Minion is life! To be fair, I’m kinda jealous they don’t make them in adult sizes.
Like I said, there was snow on the ground for a few days, so naturally with two young boys, we went outside and treated it like it was a blizzard. We played in the driveway, ran around the backyard, and bundled up with gloves, hats, jackets, snow pants because, well, that’s the way we roll. It was a good test run for when the deep snow comes along. (I found out N needs new snow pants and that G is a little clumsy with his snow boots on.)
We headed out to the park a few days later, thinking the snow would be gone—I mean it’s out in the open, no trees creating any shade—but that wasn’t the case. We were the only ones there so I grabbed a towel out of the car, thinking I’d dry off a slide or two, but everything was soaking wet. We ran around—N at 4-year-old speed, G at an accelerated walk—and just before leaving they decided to play with the snow a bit. They proceeded to throw it at me even though G had a tough time throwing it forward; it kept slipping out of his hand when he cocked it behind his head. N blasted me good a few times, and they said, “Dad, please can I throw some at BuBu (my 1999 Chevrolet Malibu) before we leave, that will be so funny.”
As any parent can attest, leaving the park is no easy task when the kids are having fun, so a few snowballs thrown at BuBu worked wonders.