This weekend we had some glorious sunny weather, with quite mild temperatures (high 30s or low 40s I'd estimate). We've had a lot of snow this year, and while some areas get plowed, others do not, and there is a good sized field right across from our apartment that does not get plowed at all. I'm not sure what our total snowfall has been this year, but I think it's been around 10 feet since Christmas. Of course there's always some melting and compacting every time things warm up, so in areas that never get touched the snow is not that deep. In the case of our field, it's around 3-4 feet deep (depending on the area).
I figured sunny day + deep snow + two little boys (and a mommy) who are subject to depression and who are missing their daddy while he's gone for 11 days = let's go playoutside!!!
So we got out the snowpants and wool socks and boots and hats and mittens and coats and went out to play. While the snow was 3+ feet deep, it was sufficiently compacted that we only sank into it a few inches. That was enough to slow myself or Wolf a little, but it was nearly knee-high for Bear, so it slowed him considerably.
I taught Wolf how to play fox and geese (which is not nearly such an exciting game with only two people--since Bear was too small to get it) but the dog kept running through the middle of the game and we decided she was a really dumb goose.
Wolf spent most of his time climbing the piles of snow at the edges of the field (where the plows pile it up) and then 'skydiving' off them onto the field.
Bear mostly wandered around picking up chunks of snow and sucking on them. [tangent--Do all kids do this? I don't remember eating snow myself, but both of my boys love it. I have long since given up on trying to get them to stop eating the snow, and instead have focused on getting them to select their treats off of relatively clean snowbanks rather than the ground. ] Anyway, Bear wandered around eating snow, and periodically falling down and then calling "hewp mommy, hewp!!"
One time when I was helping him up he started to wail "my nose, my nose!" I thought perhaps he had gotten his face in the snow, and began trying to comfort him, but he immediately made it clear that his concern was not directed at his face, but rather at his hands. He had dropped his chunks of snow, or (in his words) his snows. Being only two, he drops the first S, and so was very very concerned about his "'no's."
I got him new snows and he was happily on his way.
Ahh the fun of linguistic acquisition!!