I have to say December has been magical, but not without a casualty - my sleep. I think it's partly because of the pending pandemonium of producing a pretty great time for those I love, and partly because I have been having blogging topics floating in my mind and have no time in which to get these ideas down. It's ridiculous and embarrassing, but it's the truth. And I'm starting to resent you, your royal Bloginess. So here I am, Blogiland, way past my bed time. I promise to fill you in on my brain fodder (for the only reader that probably still checks this blog after a very sparse blogging month - thanks mom) if you'll just let me sleep. It's all I ask. It's really the least you could do, ingrate (I'm talking to the Blogosphere here and not my mom).
So here we go:
Today it snowed. And in Portland that means that people completely lose their minds and become seasonally insane. I'm not judging, because I might too be one to succumb to this seasonal insanity, but I know enough to exercise all methods of prevention, and stay out of my car and off of the roads. I know that I have very little cold weather driving experience (which happens when you grow up in the Palm Springs of Canada) and I know we're all better off with me off the road rather than involuntarily using my car as a weapon. Plus walking in the snow is fun. So, after dinner we got all the gear on (which was surprisingly adequate and even mostly water-proof with the exception of footwear) and went for an old fashioned snow walk to our local market/bakery place a few blocks away. Because what's the use of walking anywhere without the promise of a salted caramel brownie?
As soon as we step out into the weather, I remember that during "Arctic Blast 2008" we learned that Little Man hates the weather. We would stand him up in it, only for him to lift his pudgy arms to me and hunker down in the sling waiting for the cold stuff to magically disappear. He has no tolerance for anything remotely inconvenient weather-wise. He cries when the sun is too bright, he whimpers when the wind is remotely brisk, he balks with an open mouth when it rains. This from the kid that will randomly head butt anything at head-butting height and giggle about it. He's a true study of contrasts. He's a weather wimp. That might sound unfeeling and harsh coming from his mother, but better from me than in middle school in a taunting circle of 8th graders. Don't say I never equipped my kids of the real world.
So our walk was mostly him begging to be held, then begging to be put down and not moving a muscle for a couple minutes, and begging to be held again. Which was most disappointing to me because I have had a secret dream of strapping him to a baby-leash and harnessing it to a sled and just letting him run me to the bakery for the aforementioned brownie. This might also sound unfeeling and a little bit bizarre, but I come from a very decent and good place here. He has energy to burn and Mama needs a brownie. Win/Win. Better yet, it's zero emissions. We could even call it "going green."
You're welcome.
But with this weather wimpyness I have to explore other avenues, while continuing to avoid Social Services. So stay tuned.
There. You happy, your Highness (I'm talking to the BlogHead here)? I blogged. I trust you will let me go to sleep and dream of brownies and snow storms.
Good night.
Arctic Blast 2008 - The beginnings of the end of my toddler sleigh dreams.