Our backyard.  Their playground.

Until yesterday, the snow was something that the boys just watched from inside.  Stomped on in the driveway or knocked off of a bush while on their way to the car.  I’m not going to lie – I hate the snow.  The reason they have never played in the snow is because I don’t want to play in the snow. Hate is not a strong enough word.  Sure, it’s pretty.  But worthless as far as I’m concerned.  However, the first words out of Theo’s mouth when I picked them up from the babysitter were “Mommy, can we play in the snow?!”  He had such an excited, hopeful look on his face that I couldn’t find an excuse to say no.

We got home and bundled up and went right back outside for about 45 minutes.  I was paranoid the entire time that they were going to freeze.  Every time they sat on their knees to play.  Every time they fell on their bottoms and just sat there laughing.  Also, I was freezing.  But the looks on their faces were so priceless and sweet.  I guess that dumb snow’s not entirely worthless. Anything free that can elicit such wonder and amazement has some innate value, correct?  Without further ado.