Footprints

There was snow on the ground when we woke up this morning.

The baby had been in my bed since 4, the preschooler woke up before 6.  I stumbled around, pouring cereal, making coffee.

BG saw the snow.  "SNOW SNOW SNOW.  It's winter!"

We finished our breakfast.  Got dressed.  Pulled on boots and baby carriers and coats and stepped out the door.

"Mommy.  Can we make a snowman?"

"There's not really enough snow for that honey.  We can make footprints."

"Okay, mommy.  You walk in my footprints."

Breathe in, breathe out.  The baby strapped to my chest is trying to pull on her socks, not wearing the shoes we bought her on Sunday because she still curls her feet too much to get them on.  The big girl needs a new hat because the one she's trying to pull onto her head is noticeably too small.  I follow her around the yard, stomping, stepping, trotting.  We walk in circles.

I haven't written yet today.  I don't know what's happening on twitter.  I want to have a second cup of coffee.

BG claps her hands, throwing snow onto me.  I keep following her footprints.