There’s a Certain Kind of Snow

On the sledding hill this afternoon, as the snow swirls about us and the bright sleds tumble down the landscape, I pace back and forth with childhood joy. 

It’s because I’m walking on icy snow, the kind that holds you up for a moment before cracking apart as you walk. I love the pressing down, the crisp crack, and then the way I’m almost skating before the next boot falls into snow. 

It’s the best kind of walking snow. 

I almost missed this day and this particular snow. I think about motherhood and how I was prepping dinner, finishing grading, and finally getting organized just as girls bound through the doors, begging for a ride to the sledding hill. 

Now I’m zipping up snow suits, finding gloves, climbing into haunted garage crawl spaces to pull out the sleds, and reminding everyone to use the bathroom. 

I don’t have time for this!

But here I am because they brought me here. 

These Little Interruptions aren’t interruptions at all; these children are tour guides of joy and whimsy. 

I crack into more snow in the woods by the sledding hill. Everything else can wait. 

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