Snow and Ice

Last night at dinner, Dennis mentioned that snow had been in the forecast for the day, but he hadn't noticed any. It occurred to me, that, as cold as it's been down here, it's always colder on Ütliberg: we ran over to the porch, and, sure enough, things were looking pretty white up on top of the mountain.

I tried to rally an immediate expedition up to the mountain. The first snow of the season! That would be something to see.  But everyone else was tired and happy, so I had to content myself with the knowledge that it couldn't possibly get any warmer over night. Surely the snow would wait until morning.

When I peeked out at our mountain view from our balcony this morning, though, Ütliberg had returned to green and red and brown.  Stupidly, I'd already gotten the kids excited about seeing snow, so I decided to press ahead and go up, anyway. Maybe we'd be pleasantly surprised.  I unearthed the snow boots from our storage, and we headed for the hills.

And I breathed something between a sigh of relief and a gasp of excitement when, five minutes to the top of the mountain, we started seeing the lightest dustings of white on the sides of the tracks. The kids tumbled out of the train with shrieks, dashing to the picnic tables to scrape off the slush, Joey shouting "Yeah! Throw snow! Yeah!"

We weren't the only ones who were excited.  A group of three childcare providers, who I see often around the neighborhood, always with their five charges bundled and immobilized in strollers, got off the train to take a few pictures of the snow with their cell phones before getting right back on the train to go back to town.  And there were a two old men who got off the train and walked around the playground, grinning right alongside my kids, scuffing their feet in the small patches of snow: they made a 40-minute trip just for the pleasure of a few minutes' appreciation of an early snow.

Ella has been asking me for weeks and weeks, how long will it be before it starts to snow. She and nochElla and Paul are planning what they refer to as "a massive snowball battle" on the school playground, just as soon as there's the fodder for it. Ella cannot wait.

And she got a leg up on her competition this morning, winging snowballs at rocks, with Joey and Alex cheering every time one exploded.

Joey rediscovers that snow can be slippery

Aw man, that's cold!

After ten minutes of snow play, the kids started getting cold hands, so we went for a walk up to the top of the mountain.  I managed to get Joey to walk all the way up, but when we reached the top (at about 11:00), he started mumbling that he was tired, he was cold, and he wanted to g'home.

But it was just then that Ella and Alex got their second wind. Finding another decent patch of snow, they'd started to make some teeny-tiny snowmen.

Alex, with Joey's nemesis

They were immensely proud of their little creations, but for some reason Joey really, really didn't like the snowman on the left, the one that Alex is posing with.  Maybe he didn't like the smug turn of his little leaf-stem smile.  Whatever it was, Joey wanted to knock that snowman down, and he cried and cried when I told him he couldn't.  Finally, Ella and Alex conspired to help me: "Mom, just let him knock it down, and then we'll put it back together while you go ahead."

So Joey gave the snowman a good bop in the nose, retreating tearfully into my arms, whimpering "I don't like that man."

A couple of minutes, Ella and Alex caught up with us on the trail, beaming.  After they'd reconstructed their snowman, an elderly pair came by and told them that they'd made "sehr schöne Schneemänner," very beautiful snowmen, and they took a few photos of the creations.  The kids were thrilled, to the point that they relayed the story to Dennis over dinner this evening. Alex kept coming back to the story throughout they day, too: "They said 'schöne,' Mom. That really does mean beautiful."

Joey rested on the train ride home, and he revived over lunch.  When he joined in his brother for an impromptu dance recital, I thought that maybe, just maybe, he might have enough energy in him for a second outing in the afternoon.

(Obviously, I've taught the kids all their best moves.)

Our neighborhood outdoor ice rink, adjacent to our swimming pool and just a block away from our house, has been open for a week now. This afternoon it was sunny and warm enough that ice skating would really be a delight.  As of next week, there will be free skating from 9:00 in the morning until after dinner, but right now only one of the two rinks is open, and so free skating is limited to 2:00 to 4:00.

The kids were excited when I told my plan, Alex with the caveat that he be able to wear his snow pants. So at 1:45 we headed down to the ice rink.

And by 2:55, Joey and I completed our first loop around the ice rink.

It wasn't that it took us so much time getting our equipment, although that was something of a challenge.  I wasn't completely sure of the kids European shoe sizes, so we had to try a few skates before we found a good pairs.  And Joey originally wasn't planning on skating, until he saw the ice...then he insisted.

So we went back to see if they had anything in his size after sending Ella and Alex out onto the ice. And they did have something perfect for him: little double-bladed adjustable skates that mercifully let him keep his balance.

I got all three kids Laufers, or walkers, as well: Ella really wanted a large metal one, although by they time I returned to the ice with Joey, she was looking a little shame-faced at her insistence.  "Mom, I'm the biggest kid out there with a walker! I look like such a dork!" So I shrugged and told her the obvious: try skating without it, then.  And so she did, and it turns out that she was immediately much steadier on her feet than she was at the end of the ice season last year.  She's also much more willing to take a fall.  Dennis and I both told her the same thing: falling is good. It means you're pushing yourself. (And that's a metaphor for life, kiddo.)

Alex can kind of get around on the ice without a walker, too, but he prefers having one with him, not so much for the help with balance, but rather so that he can kick back and relax every half-lap or so.



Meanwhile, Joey chose "Mr. Bear" for his walker and bosom companion.  The two of them, and I beside, inched around the ice, Joey stopping every few steps to give Mr. Bear a hug in gratitude for his constant and unfailing support.

But, as I said, it was very slow going.  Every once in a while, Joey would look up from his tête-à-têtes with Mr. Bear to notice one of the figure skaters practicing in the center of the rink. "Wow! Look at her!" he'd breathe. At one point, I got a little restless with our pace and stepped away to skate a couple of circles around Joey. And I heard his little voice behind me: "Wow, Mr. Bear! Look at Mommy!" Someone thinks I'm awesome.

Pooped.

When we finally finished our first epically long lap, Joey decided to let Alex push him a round a little on the ice. The two of them had a wonderful time, Alex clowning to make Joey laugh, pretending to lose his balance and sprawling on the ice. Ella kept checking in, and then skating off to take her next spectacular fall.

They skated for the entire two hours, though, and both Ella and Alex eagerly asked if we could come back every day.  Alex is actually free, as a skater, and Ella costs something like three dollars for entrance; there's really no reason we can't.

With the possible exception of Joey's stamina.