Last year at this time, we were bundling Dylan into his car seat, throwing a blanket over him, and booking it to the usually already warmed up car, because he was little, fragile, and brand spankin' new! Needless to say, he didn't exactly get a proper introduction to snow, not that he would have noticed or even cared. But, this year, I was eagerly awaiting the moment there would be enough snow on the ground that I wouldn't look like an complete loon if I took him out and made the introduction.
Today was the day, after a quick call to "daddy" to make sure he wouldn't be pissed about missing this first.
I approached it methodically, as if planning a battle. First, I went through my winter box, finding my snowpants (that now need to be held together with a safety pin - YIKES), hat, gloves, thermal wear, turtleneck, heavy socks, boots, and ski coat. I put the first layer on, then moved on to Dylan. I got his stuff ready, a turtleneck, heavy fleece pants, warm socks, snow overalls, hat, and jacket with attached gloves. I bought 3 pairs of boots at a consignment store a few months ago anticipating this very event, so after changing his diaper, I starting trying them on him to decide which ones would work best. The first two I couldn't even get on his feet, which makes no sense because they are actually a size bigger than what he wears in shoes. The first of the third pair, went on no problem, but by that time, he was over trying on boots, and decided to take it off and hightail it out of there. Cue the corny music they play in old movies where one person is chasing another. I chased him around the house, trying desperately to get those *&^% boots on. He decided this was great fun, and giggled and hee hawed through every room in the house.
When I finally wrestled, (in this corner - Sweaty Mommy! In this corner - Annoyed Kid With Too Many Layers On!), him into all his clothes, and got my own on (while he sat there looking pissed, cute, and ridiculous all at the same time), I made a decision about the boots. They wouldn't stay on, and he couldn't walk in them at all, so I put on a pair of his shoes, and put a zip lock bag around each one, securing it with a rubber band. "A little piece of genius, right there", I smugly thought to myself. Then we were off. "Snow, Dylan. Dylan, Snow. Nice to meet you".
After my poor kid slid halfway across our back deck, on his zip lock iceskates, before the big crash and burn, I had a vague recollection of my mom doing the EXACT same thing to me when I was a kid, with the EXACT same result! Holy Crap! We really are destined to repeat our parent's mistakes, aren't we? Luckily, my parents didn't make very many, (right Mom and Dad?XXOO). I had a great time, and my newly signing smartie pants kept signing "More" when we came in, so I guess he enjoyed it too!
"Yea, Mommy. I can't move OR see. This should be fun".