We're in the middle of another big storm. At about noon I finally gave in and asked Cole is he was ready to go out and play in the snow. He ran around the house like a madman yelling, "Tractors, Tractors, Tractors!". I think he did that because he loves to play outside with his trucks and tractors. I don't think that he realized that there was 3 feet of snow and playing with tractors is not the same as it is when it's dry outside. We have 2 shovels so Cole and I each had our own shovel. He was so serious about getting that snow shoveled. After about 45 minutes I decided that we ought to go inside and warm up with hot chocolate--mostly because I love hot chocolate but more importantly becuase Cole refused to wear boots, gloves, a scarf or the girlie red hat. I was afraid he would have frostbite. He is wearing crocs for pete's sake. what kind of mother am I? When I put my shovel in the garage and went back to get Cole, I yelled, "Cole, let's go inside and get warm" he dropped his shoveled, turned around and ran down the icy sidewalk. He was slipping and sliding and he even fell a few times. It took me about 200 yards before I could reach--I was laughing at him. When I reached him, I picked him up and started carrying him back home. He was crying and yelling, "No home, snow, snow, snow". He cried when we got in the house because his fingers were so cold, but his toes were not so cold (amazing!). The shoveling must have worn him out, he's sleeping like a log.
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