Ironically, we took advantage of the near seventy degree weather on Saturday to take Charlie ice skating. There is a grocery store downtown here that has a rink on their roof and that sounded so much more idyllic than going to the indoor ice rink. For some reason I was picturing Rockefeller Center as we got into the elevator in the parking garage. The rink wasn't quite as grand, but it served our purposes nicely. Ryan laced up Charlie's (tiny, adorable, double-bladed) ice skates and reminded him over and over that "These special shoes are hard to walk in and you're going to have to hold Mama's hand very tightly, OK?" I stood up and held out my hand and Charlie stood up and took off towards the ice by himself. Walking was not a problem. I stopped him just short of the ice to make him put on his bike helmet. Ryan thought I was being silly, but I have a very vivid memory of whacking the heck out of my head on ice when I was a little kid and it hurting for a long time. Sure enough, after a few laps Charlie fell and bonked his helmet-clad head on the wall on the side of the rink and laughed it off thanks to his over-protective mother.
We took turns holding Wesley while the other one took slow laps around the ice hunched over holding Charlie's hands while he slipped and slid and occasionally (very occasionally) actually skated. Every time he fell he said "COLD! COLDCOLDCOLD!!" and laughed. He loved it. So much fun.
Prepping for a triple-toe-loop
That was not a low-cut top when I left the house. It must have been feeding time. How many family holiday memory videos now feature my boobs, do you think?
Anyway, it's good we got out when we did because we now have three runny noses and with temperatures in the upper twenties and thirties with winter weather advisories (whatever that means) for the last two days we're not going anywhere. Not even Sonic! I haven't even gotten dressed yet and it's almost noon. Charlie went back to bed shortly after breakfast and Wesley and I dozed (and nursed, always with the eating, that kid) on the couch in front of The View. Ryan just called and he is bringing us lunch because we are so pitiful with our sniffing and sneezing and general moping around not getting dressed and not able to take anything for the congestion because we are all either under the age of five or breastfeeding.
"Send help! We are prisoners of winter!"