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Monday, April 4, 2011

My "OMG-I-Totally-Missed-That-Moment"

Math in Los Angeles goes something like this:  rain in the Valley = snow in the Mountains.

So, after a few weeks of some substantially wet days, we were talking about taking that day and making it up into the mountains.  And we continued to talk.  And we continued to talk.  By the time we were finishing up the conversation we had spent several days drinking iced drinks in the sun outside and we came to the conclusion that we had to speed things up before the snow was completely gone.

And there we went, on a Sunday in March.  We had borrowed snow gear from friends, I had packed sandwiches, baked cookies and made hot cocoa and off we were.  It was a sunny day and around 65 degrees.  That was around 8am.  Yes, we were practically dressed in T-shirts and shorts on our way up to the snow.  The closer we got to Mt. Pinos, the more doubts I started to have on validity of the website that I had been checking over the days leading up to our daytrip, telling me there was enough snow to be found "up there".  But, as we arrived at the top, we were welcomed by slopes covered in white magic.  Perfect.

We bundled up the kids, we bundled up ourselves and off we went.  Yes, by then it was below freezing with a bright blue sky and strong wind.  Chilly.

It was the boys' first snow experience.  Ryder spent most of the morning managing to pull his gloves off, only for me to put them back on.  If not busy with that, he occupied himself with only 1 other thing: screaming his little head off:


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So the kid doesn't like the snow.  Understandable, but not acceptable.  He'll have to get used to that with me as a mom as I do want to start incorporating more snow in our family winters in Los Angeles.  And this day trip was only the beginning of that tradition.  Oh well, there's always next year.

Kai, on the other hand, LOVED it:



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After one of our bumpy sled rides down the mountain, Kai announced that the snow was "Cool!" and that he "wanted to move here".  Comment duly noted.

At the end of the day there was hot cocoa, rosy cheeks and great memories.


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The drive back was peaceful


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and before we knew it, we were back in the backyard, in our shorts and T-shirts.  Our boys were obviously in two different minds on whether snow was cool or not: Kai loving it, Ryder not so much.  Until...

... I downloaded the photos later that evening and all of a sudden realized that it wasn't the snow, or even the face plant into the snow that had been the distress factor for our little Bruiser Bruisee. 


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His hand!  It was gone!  Vanished!  Disappeared in a matter of seconds.  Without anyone noticing it.  Gone.  Forever!!! 
In my attempt to keep the darn gloves on his hands, I had put the gloves on first, before putting the jacket on.  When his hand didn't fit through the sleeve opening I decided to leave it in the sleeve.  After all, that was a heck of a lot warmer than having it stick out anyways.  The little dude probably thought his hand had disappeared and was frantically trying to figure out when the heck that had happened and how, from now on, he would have to feed himself without his trusting right hand.  And that, in and by itself is reason for GREAT concern.

Nope.  I hadn't noticed it.  It hadn't occurred to me.  Not for a second.  Thank heavens for photos - not only to serve the purpose of documenting memories, but also for being the voice of a 13-month old, who is yet unable to make his frustrations understood. ("heard"- Yes.  "understood" - not always.)


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