(This is the first post in a series I will be doing with a few of my very talented friends … 11 personal photos on the 11th of each month. I am so excited to be part of this project; I need a kick in the pants to pick up my big-girl camera with my own kids, and the creative push from my amazing group of colleagues is a lot of fun. I am honored to participate with them. Plus, I am a narcissist at heart and love rambling about my kids/life/dogs/etc. )
We are lucky enough that my in-laws live up in the nearby mountains, home of the snowy winter wonderland. Every year, around October, it begins …
“Are we going to Grandma’s soon?”
“When are we going to Grandma’s?”
“Is there snow at Grandma’s?”
“Can we go sledding at Grandma’s?”
“If I ask you 52,789,452 times about going to Grandma’s, will you take us?”
So went to Grandma’s.
I, too, love going to Grandma’s; Big Bear is only a couple of hours away, but it seems like such an escape from the hustle and bustle down here. Especially when you start spiraling up the elevation, see the car thermostat drop rapidly, and marvel at the pine tree branches, heavy with snow.
Going to Grandma’s means a lot of down time, and I love it.
We make snow angels.
Strategically fling various birds at green swine.
Eat snow. A lot of snow. In fact, every photo mom took of you during the trip was you eating snow, maybe you have a problem.
Clearly, your sister also has a problem.
We make snow(wo)men.
We take photos for mom. I’d seen some cute photos of kids blowing snow from their hands and thought it would be fun to try. Grace portrayed the magical winter image I had envisioned well.
Nathan … nailed it.
We go out for pancake breakfasts.
We have snowball fights.
We get really happy when our camera shy pre-teen kid gives us this and makes us all googoo-gahgah over his cuteness and freckles that make his mom melt…
But then this happens. And the googoo/cuteness/freckle admiration time is over.
Mostly, when we are at Grandma’s, we look around at the chaos: wet boots, snow on the carpet, chapped cheeks, dripping noses … and we wonder how we got so lucky that this is us right now. And we are so, so grateful.
P.S. Don’t count my photos … you know when you tell your kids to get in bed and you will count to three: one, two, two and an eighth, two and a quarter, two and a half, etc? That is my numbering method.
Now go check out my super talented friend, Colombus Newborn Photographer Fran Barker’s 11 on 11.