Snow Day

I am a winter person. I love the cold, the icy air that smells so pure, the silence of a cold night and especially snow. Living in TX we didn't see any these past few years so you can imagine our household the other day when we awoke to a NC winter wonderland. Abby came bounding into the bedroom at 6am yelling "It's a miracle!!", trailed by Alex who has never seen snow, never heard of snow, but was determined to be a part of whatever had his beloved sissy in such a state. We all crowded around the windows, ooohing and aahhing over the magical sight of a humdrum backyard transformed by a blanket of snow. That was about where the magic ended. Abby bounced off to suit up for her trek outside while I frantically attempted to help Elisabeth and Alex get dressed before Abby left them behind. I didn't succeed. Which meant that Abby made it out the backdoor (leaving it open) while I was still trying to help Beth find her shoes and socks while she whined every breath about a sore foot, a sore throat, her shoes were too big, the same shoes were too small, it was cold, she was hungry and she didn't like her mittens. This child doesn't often cause any disharmony, but when she does...watch out. Finally after getting her all set, I turned my attentions to Alex.....wait a minute....where is Alex? And there he was, outside in snow up to his knees without coat, hat or even socks, Abby leading him around the backyard. I quickly grabbed his outerwear and headed out, but it was too late. The minute I was spotted, he launched into full blown tears, holding up frozen little hands and wailing "cold, mama!". His 10 minute journey was over and he wanted to go back inside to get warm. This we did, followed for some reason by a 15 minute tantrum because he didn't get to swing. I guess at 2 swinging and cold are mutually exclusive? Later on when the fire was lit and the kids were all warm and glowing from 2 cups of cocoa, my husband came home regretful of missing Alex's first trek into the snow and eager to hear all about it. Unfortunately I had to tell him that I missed it too.

What!!?? Breasts!!???

Over Christmas, my mom happened to point out a horrifying thing...my 9 year-old daughter has little breast buds going on. When this happened exactly, I do not know and I am having a pretty tough time with it. I mean, I always knew this day would come, but since I didn't actually need a bra until sometime in my mid-twenties, I was more prepared to help her deal with the disappointment of being flat-chested through high school. The idea that she might end up a voluptuous early bloomer never even crossed my mind. Looking back, I realize this has been coming. The potent cocktail of prepubescent hormones has been brewing for several months now, but I chalked up the emotional outbursts, desire for privacy and sudden necessity of daily showers and deodorant to the coming tween stage, never expecting it to actually be the start of something more. So here we are, ready or not, and instead of consoling her with trips to Victoria's Secret for padded bras, it looks like we might be looking for ones with actual support. I guess it will be just me looking for those padded push-up ones after all.