It has snowed off and on here for the past two days. (Mostly on.) We don’t have nearly the snow as our friends to the east, but we have snow, nontheless.
Because they are kids, or because they’re crazy, or maybe some of both, my offspring actually wanted to go outside and romp in the snow. In fact, they’ve been begging me to allow them to go out since the first snowfall. (At what age does one lose the desire to roll around in it and freeze to death– on purpose? Ten? Twelve? … Oh, that was just me?)
Now, we’ve already established that I’m NOT a huge fan of playing in the snow, and I’m even less of a fan of getting kids bundled into winter gear, only to have them come back inside five minutes later because It’s cold! or I have to potty now! or I am wearing half the snow on the lawn, and I’m COOOOOLD! But I really want to be outside with my siblings, so I’ll stand at the window and cry because I can’t decide which is worse: being cold outside or warm and toasty inside with my booooring mom. However, today I decided to suck it up and let them go outside, which gave me nearly an hour of peace and quiet. (The neighbors? Not so much. *snicker*) They had a blast playing in the snow, and were definitely not ready to come in when I called them. Even though their cheeks resembled flash-frozen tomatoes, and Kendra’s hair was dripping wet and starting to freeze. Even though they had so much snow packed on them, you could barely tell the color of their coats. Even though I made them strip down on the rug, one at a time, so I could gather up the snow and throw it back outside.
So I am left with one question: Is it worth the extra load(s) of wet snow laundry, plus the hassle of dressing them, plus the hassle of UNdressing them, just for a protest-free bedtime and four little bodies sleeping soundly?
Let me get back to you on that. We’re going to test the theory again tomorrow. 😀