a day in the snow

If you ask Jack about his recent (and first) day in the snow, he will most likely tell you about his "frosty-man". He has a book about Frosty the Snowman that he loves to read/sing and ever since we started talking about going to the snow, he has been talking about making a "frosty-man". And that is exactly what he set to doing the minute we hit the snow.

But first . . .

. . . a morning drive to Palm Springs and a Superman-style wardrobe change in the back of the car . . .

(snow gear and Jack definitely have an early and strong love/hate relationship)

(Above Jack had spotted the bus that would soon take us to the aerial tram and could no longer remember any other words other than "Bus! Bus! Bus!" -- He really wanted to get on that bus.)

(Still looking toward the bus.)

(Finally on the bus.)

Waiting for the aerial tram . . .

On the tram that took us up to almost 11,000 ft. in elevation . . .

. . . and delivered us into a snowy wonderland . . .

. . . where making a "frosty-man" was our first and Jack's ultimate

goal . . .

Jack had a very tender relationship with his "frosty-man". Throughout our time in the snow he would just go say hi, check on the little guy or simply sit down with him, chat, give him a kiss . . . they were dear pals.

And then, of course, there was sledding . . .

. . . intermingled with quiet moments with "frosty-man" . . .

and then more sledding . . .

All-in-all a beautiful day . . .

*** A little parent's note is in order here. I have been meaning to try out this little one day adventure for some time -- mostly for Jack's sake. I am someone who loves to travel, whether it be a one-day road trip or a one-month trip abroad. But with a little one I am seeing just how easy it is for someone -- even as restless and wanderlust as me -- to lose my steam and stay close to home. And with good reason -- the day was not always easy by any means and, dare I say, not always fun from my perspective. For example what should have been a two hour drive home that evening turned into a five hour drive with a very sleepy but awake little man on our hands -- due to, you guessed it, traffic (in Southern California? hard to believe, I know) But here's the thing -- we made due, at a roadside McDonalds for awhile (not a place we frequent as a family otherwise) and Jack had a blast with his french fries, ketchup, and watered-down fruit beverage . . . he danced, talked to the other patrons and just seemed to be having a grand old time . . . as he did, for the most part, throughout the day in the snow.

But here is the kicker. During the day it dawned on me that this is now a childhood memory for him. And that although Rigo and I do not have complete control over what his childhood memories end up being, we have a whole lot of sway in the matter. I thought about all of my happy childhood memories and stories and realized, lo and behold, there was an adult there that loved me enough to make those memories possible . . . most often my mom and dad. They could have sat around in the house all day with me and skipped those trips where I probably was being less than wonderful to be around at times. But they didn't. Memories, traditions, adventures . . . they just seem to take care of themselves when you are a kid. And I suppose that is the way it should be. And so that is our job now. To make sure Jack's life is full of lovely memories, traditions and adventures.

On that note, one of my personal goals for this year is to take a trip or do/go somewhere new each month as a family . . . it could be a one-day spontaneous road trip or a more thought-out weekend excursion. But this year it will happen. For Jack and for the wanderer in me ( and the wanderer I am sure lurks inside of Rigo just biding its time . . . )

We will see where March takes us!