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Season's First Snow

Andrew and Grammy made the world's smallest snowman Saturday morning.

Wait, I forgot.  It was a snowWOMAN, Andrew said.  "Look, Mommy, you can tell because she has boobs."

Then home for sledding, snowball fights, and cold weather fun.

As an adult, I can take the snow or leave it.  The best things for me about snow are the school cancellations and delays.  But I do remember the utter joy I felt as a child playing in the snow.  The pure fun that we had, in spite of freezing our tails off. 

I remember playing until we were too cold and wet to move, then going inside, peeling off our wet snow-caked clothes, and having hot chocolate.  The house that I grew up in had really old-fashioned radiators in every room, and we would lay our scarves and gloves on the radiators to dry out so they'd be ready again later.  And then, my feet and legs would start to thaw out, and they'd be pink, cold, and itchy.  But it would be worth it, and we'd do it all again the next day. 

Watching Andrew play in the snow these last few days has brought back the fascination of snow--it isn't just about speeding down the hills and building pathetic-looking snow creatures.  It's the little things, too...the taste and sensation of catching snowflakes on your tongue...packing the snow together into a ball and having it stick...falling down and expecting it to hurt, but being cushioned by the snow.  It's all of those things.

Snow also means stripping off the wet clothes by the door so the snow doesn't get traipsed through the house, and leaving a puddle in the kitchen floor that Mom will step in and fuss about later.  It's about coaxing the little marshmallows from the bottom of the mug after all but the dregs of hot chocolate are gone.  It's about the disappointment as the snow melts and the grass and mud start to emerge from their white blanket.  And it's about the anticipation of future snowfall and the excitement of watching it fall from the sky when it finally arrives.

So, while I'm a warm weather gal and would much rather be spending December in a tropical paradise, for my son, whose complete joy on these snowy days is hard to match, I'll suck it up.  I'll even hope for a lot of snow this winter, knowing that snow days probably won't involve me on the couch with a good book and a blanket.  The look on his face will be worth it.

Andrewisms

The bedtime reading of Mercer Mayer's The Little Drummer Mouse tonight inspired a philosophical discussion about God and Jesus. The little mouse, who has been scorned his whole life for being so small, for always lagging behind, and for playing his acorn drum, follows a bright star to a stable to visit a baby king after being told by three kings that the baby will be the greatest king of all. The little mouse plays his drum to the delight of the baby, and the shepherds and others join in. The little mouse is finally a leader, and his gift of music is, as the story goes, the greatest gift of all. It's a sweet tale, with beautiful illustrations, but the religious messages are all implied instead of directly stated.

Not sure if he was making the inferences or not, or how much of the Christmas story Andrew knows and remembers, I pointed out that the baby was Jesus, which brought up the questions. Actually, Andrew was full of information that he's apparently picking up at his church-sponsored preschool. He sang a song for me, ("The B-I-B-L-E, Yes, that’s the book for me. I stand alone on the Word of God,The B-I-B-L-E."  I had to google the actual words--the only part I really got was stand alone on the word of God.  I had NO clue whatsoever that he was spelling Bible, but instead just thought it was some cute refrain in the song.  Duh.)  He went on to tell me that Jesus grew up and then died, and then he started asking questions about God, which are harder ones to answer. We covered that Jesus was the son of God, which led him to ask if God had died too. My answer was no, that God had always been in heaven and had created everything in the universe. We went through the fact that God wasn't a man, but that didn't quite satisfy him. He wanted to know what he was, and that's too abstract for me to explain other than to say that God is the most powerful thing in the universe. Hypocritical though it might be to teach these things to my son when I don't even know if I believe them myself, at this time of year, I'm inclined to fall back on my Christian upbringing. He had one last question for me, though. "Mommy, is God a Space Ranger?" Yes, yes he is. Just like Buzz Lightyear.

No Words Necessary