Four Feet More

For some insane reason, Jeff and I thought it would be a good idea to take the kids to the snow. Since we live in the Bay Area, we can't just go outside and play in the snow. For us, a snow day begins with a 4-hour trek to Tahoe on the border of California and Nevada. We got up early, packed the car, and hit the road. Fortunately, the kids were still tired, so they were quiet for the first 2 hours of the drive. However, at 2 hours and 5 minutes in, we began getting the incessant "How much longer?" questions. And when we stopped to buy our Sno-park permit at a Sports Chalet along the way, the questions became, "This is it? Where's all the snow?" I would have thought that us being in a shopping center parking lot would have tipped Vika and Eamon off to the fact that we had not yet arrived at our final destination. I was wrong. When we finally did start seeing snow along the side of the road, the kids could hardly contain themselves. Little squeals of glee and anticipation replaced all their questions. It was with happiness and relief that we finally pulled into the Sno-Park.

The day was beautiful. There were a few clouds overhead and the snow was white and powdery. Jeff showed the kids how to slide down hills on their feet and engaged in a snowball fight with Eamon. Then he found a green inner tube which someone had left behind, and immediately began trying to blow the thing up. His efforts were in vain though, because all the air kept escaping through the gaping hole on the side of the tube. This, apparently, is why the tube was abandoned. Never one to miss an opportunity, Jeff folded the tube-carcass in half and used it as a makeshift toboggan to slide down a hill. He gave Eamon a turn, and really, it was a pathetic sight. The thing only slid so far, and Eamon was trying so hard to have fun with it. Some other snow-goers took pity on us and lent Jeff their sled. Both kids took turns, laughing all the way down the slope and through the trees.

In the meantime, I began building a snowman. Growing up in Arizona and then moving to California has not afforded me many opportunities to play in the snow. In fact, never before had I built a real snowman. I made a small little lump of a thing once, but that doesn't really count. I set to work on this snowman with gusto. He was going to be life-sized, with a scarf, a hat and gloves. Sadly, the powdery snow made this task a bit more daunting. I soon learned that I had to hold my hands over the snow, warming and melting it slightly, so it would stick together. This made the project take MUCH longer than anticipated. The kids and Jeff helped out a bit, but they soon lost interest and went on to more rewarding activities. I was tenacious though and finally completed the snowman's body (which was life-sized, if you are a three-year-old). I sent Vika off to get some sticks and Jeff and Eamon to the car for accessories. Here's our family with the finished product:

We named him "Snicks" (a combination of "snow" and "sticks"), and several families came by to admire our handiwork. By this time, the clouds had grown thicker and it started to snow. My toes were numb, Eamon's hands were frozen, and we were all hungry. Scrambling up the slope, we rushed to the car and ate a quick lunch. Eamon buckled himself into his car seat declaring, "I'm done with the snow Mama. I'll just wait in here." The poor kid's hands were red from the cold and his jeans were soaked through (we really were not dressed for the snow). But Vika wanted to make snow angels, so the kids rushed outside, plopped down on a snow bank, and began waving their arms and legs furiously. The shock of the cold along their whole body did both kids in, and they were a shivering mess, barely able to walk back to the car. It would seem that their hardy Russian blood has thinned during these years in California.

Changing Vika and Eamon into warm, dry clothes proved to be quite an ordeal. I have never heard them moan so much! Little pansies. ;) After what seemed like an epic struggle, we had them stripped of their wet jeans and shirts, and changed into snuggly fleece. With the snow coming down a bit harder, we pulled out of the park, dodging snowboarders being pulled by other cars along the way (what's up with that?), and made the long journey back home. It was a fun, but exhausting day. My uncle, who lives in Chicago, commented that it was sad we had to make a special trip to the snow when his family lives with it "every friggin' day" from December through April. After how long it took my toes to defrost, I can't say I envy him. Although it would be nice to be able to make a snowman in our front yard someday. Even if it is just a small little lump of a thing.