Baby snowman hug

This morning found me scavenging snow off of cars. We got less than an inch last night and everything on the ground melted promptly. What was left was very slim pickings but I had to get a bowl of the cleanest snow I could find.

How could I resist when Henry, looking out the window, asked for a baby snowman hug - which totally reminded me of Lucy hugging her first snowman.

So I got you some mostly clean snow. And we made tiny snowmen and poured juice over them and sprinkled pomegranate seeds on top and ate it with spoons.

And then we piled into the stroller with blankets and hats and gloves and coats and hot cocoa and lunches packed with as many vegetables as I could sneak in. And we strolled to school, Lucy singing a vibrato-filled song about snow bells, and Henry asking "what's that" about every 5 seconds.

It's the kind of morning I want to rewind and do all over again - the kind of morning I want to wrap up and put in my pocket so I can relive it tomorrow and next week and ten years from now when you are totally different human beings than you are right now.

I love you - my sweet, adventuresome, and ever-changing children. You may not remember this day, but please, never forget how much I love you.

Love,

Mama