Hurry Up (and wait) February 3, 2015

Twenty two minutes. It doesn’t seem like a long time, but for me it was an eternity. I was ready to go the moment I heard my forever mom say it. “Want to go play in the snow when dad gets home?” she asked dear baby Carter. Unlike me, he didn’t really register much about her words other than the word “dad.” But I knew fun was in the near future and I was ready. 

What I wasn’t ready for was the preparation it would take for my people to be ready. There were snow pants and hats and mittens and boots.  And layers (and layers) of clothes. Mom and Carter weren’t feeling the best yesterday, so no caution was spared in terms of ensuring they were cozy and warm. The same goes for dad when he got home a few minutes later. All said and done, it took twenty two minutes for my forever family to be backyard ready.

Fresh snowflakes fell from the sky as family playtime ensued in the foot (or so) of snow we were walloped with the other day. I stood back and watched as poor Carter sank into the snow. Moving wasn’t really an option at that point, but that didn’t change the smile on his face. I watched as he laid back and watched the snowflakes fall, covering his eyelashes like angel dust. I watched as my parents sat by his side and took it all in.

And I realized as I watched that if I could make a snowglobe, it would look just like this. With my people and their joy and love and happiness filling the space between the snow in the sky and the snow on the ground.

Even if it all only lasted six minutes. It took twenty two minutes to get ready. From the layers (and layers) of clothes to the snow pants and jackets and hats and mittens and boots, it was quite the process. But even though it took more than three times as long to prepare for the big backyard outing as it did to actually enjoy it, waiting was only part of the fun.

Joy. From the ground up, it doesn’t have to last any longer than a snowflake that melts the instant it meets a person’s skin. Because it lives on in our hearts.

 

 

 

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In A Moment January 3, 2015

I woke up smiling today. I didn’t know why at first (as I sometimes don’t), but I encountered the reason as soon as I made my way outside to my backyard paradise for my early morning stroll. Snow. From the ground up, it has always been a favorite source of joy for me. I know some people (especially anyone who plows or shovels it, or tries to drive in it) don’t particularly care for the stuff. But I love it.

It’s so simple and understated as it falls silently from the sky, covering everything in a snow blanket of diamonds. Happy memories abound for me and especially my forever mom, who has on occasion been so excited to get outside and play in the snow with me that she has abandoned all common sense to do so. (Coats and boots? Who needs them?)

Today was no exception to this, as we got our first significant snow that dear baby Carter could enjoy. It has been an unusually warm and dry winter in Wisconsin thus far, with hardly any snow to date. Though I’m sure the headaches involved with snow were not terribly missed, I could tell my forever mom was waited with baited breath for this day. This day when she could share her child-like appreciation of the simplicity that is snow with her son.

There was no forgetting boots and coats this time around either. Carter was so very bundled by the time we made it outside that I wasn’t sure he’d be able to move. True to form, he figured it out.

Really it’s no surprise I woke up with a smile today. Because in the matter of a few hours, there we were. Mom and dad and Carter and aunt Morgan and I, playing together in the snow like a bunch of ninnies. Dancing like no one was watching. There were snowballs. And giggles. And silliness. We played and they laughed and I couldn’t tell whether my tail wagging or their laughter came first. Joy. In a moment, there it is.