Oh Christmas Tree, Ooooooh Christmas Trrrr.....

Oh the sadness of a snow adventure without any pictures.

That means I have to wow you all with only words. Tough job. Here goes.
The late morning fog lifted only to reveal frost-coated trees and a few lonely snowflakes. The temperature hovered right around the freezing point. As we drove up out of the fog, the snowflakes began to thicken, blanketing the road.

The littlest one, mesmerized by the falling snow and the jubilant strains of Away in a Manger sung by his older brother, fell asleep. With creative verse, of course. "Oh angel, oh-oh angel..."

Shortly upon arriving at the snow park and donning jackets, hats, gloves, snowshoes {well, maybe not}, the older brother decided that he had to go pee. Well, fortunately this snow park has an indoor hole in the ground (with a seat), but not so fortunately, something about said hole frightened little dooga and he would not sit on it.

So, back to getting those snowshoes on.

What seemed like a couple of hours later, Tim and Peter finally caught up with the rest of the group. Peter was not happy. The snowshoes made "bumps" in the sled but the snow was too thick and fluffy for him to walk with ease. And he still had to pee.

Making yellow snow was not an option in his mind.

So, we tramped on, through very deep snow. In search of the perfect tree. Perfect = somewhere in between 3 and 8 feet tall. With branches.

Not like last year's tree. Charlie Brown would have been proud.

So picture us. Ezra in the backpack on my back. Making it much harder to balance on snowshoes. Sending me down into the snow a couple of times. Landing on my knees wasn't too bad, but when I tried to sit down to help Peter...and then couldn't get up...arms pushing shoulder deep into the fluffy white stuff. Ya.

I found us a tree. Peter finally had a screaming kicking crying fit that resulted in the necessary pee exit. Fortunately, Tim found a diaper hiding in a pocket of the backpack and had previously put it on him.

He was now much happier.

Tim drug the heavy tree back down the trail. I, on two occasions, carried both boys {65+ pounds}. Ezra cried most of the way back to the car {later discovered we lost a sock glove}.

We survived. We got a tree {it's in the garage defrosting}. The kids slept most of the way home. Ezra transferred and is still sleeping. Peter is in the bathtub drinking just looking at his hot cocoa.

And so it goes. Wish you'd been there? Wish I'd taken pictures? Ya.