Winter Olympics 2006

After 21 hours sleep in the last 48 hours; I came home from work dog-tired. My husband and my children were outside up to their eyeballs in snow, squeals of delight alternating with roars of frustration. Despite my weary bones I ran into the house and donned my sub-zero attire and, dog in tow, headed out to join the team. We took 3 snowboards, a GT-Racer and a plastic toboggan and headed across the street to the perfect hill. Within seconds the neighborhood kids joined us and we spent the next 3 hours playing in the snow, laughing and yelling, challenging and tormenting. It was riotous. The dog barked his head off, the baby squealed and threw herself repeatedly out of the toboggan, Remy, Zach and I raced ruthlessly down the perilous hill.(Zach won every time, to his glee and Remy's unforgiving fury) Brittany and I went headlong over the bank crashlanding in a giggling heap of legs and tow ropes, and meanwhile baby Maida climbed patiently up the hill, a bellyslide down for every two steps she made. My time for gold medals has past, but as I watched my son expertly carve his way over the hill on his snowboard, executing perfect jumps... grinning, laughing and wholeheartedly gloating ... I couldn't help but wonder... 2018????

Valentine's Eve

I've been baking pink cupcakes and laying out treats for my children. my husband torments me, says I go to far - but the crinkle around his eyes tell me he is just as proud of the spoils as I am. I live for their smiles, and if a forty dollar spree at the discount store makes this morning magical for them, then I am in. I'm all about magic for my kids. There is so much drudgery they have to put up with, so many don'ts and no's and hurry-ups. I don't think gifts and things are the way to fill the void, but 2 dozen pink cupcakes to proudly tote to school tomorrow is a little way to help.

Snowbirds

The weather disgusts me. It is a balmy 5 degrees celsius. It is February 4. If it were the 22nd of July it would be minus 12.
I'm moving -twice. First to Lapland where I can ski til I drop, and once I've had my fill of that, I'll be Orlando bound, or maybe the Carribean, or the Mediterranean.
I long for seasons, real, identifiable seasons where one is distinctly different than the other and there are 4. Here in a good year we have 2, but on a bad year like this year even the line between those 2 becomes pretty blurry. 5 degrees in february. Its enough to make a girl sick.