Things that Make You Go "Awww..."

Seeing as Hubby was worn out from today's sledding (pics to come later), and then coming home and snowblowing the plowing-under the end of the driveway and sidewalks got, courtesy of the borough, I agreed to tuck the kids into bed tonight. Sitting and resting most of the evening between final dinner prep and bedtime had helped ease the ache in my ankle.

Since there's no school tomorrow, the kids all elected to sleep in the twins' room. I got up there and found this:

Oh, hello, Kimo.

"Look, Mommy, she's all tucked in," Middle said.

Now, Middle loooooooooooooooooves Kimo, and recently suffered a traumatic nightmare in which Hubby and I kicked Kimo out of the house and refused to allow Middle to bring her back inside, something which nearly proved fatal to poor Kimo, despite Middle's desperate attempts to orchestrate an impressive rescue. Normally, Kimo does not sleep in the twins' room, because we are trying to keep kitties from getting stuck in there at night and doing untoward things. But knowing about the nightmare, knowing that Middle has been very scared she's going to lose Kimo the way we've lost Popoki, Keiki, and Pa'ani, I didn't object. 

I just took a picture...and tucked the blanket around Kimo a bit more.

I sang the "Goodnight Junior" song I always sing, even kissing Kimo for good measure, and gently warned that best behavior would be required for Kimo to be allowed to stay, and left the door open a crack in case Kimo needed to get out.

I hobbled back downstairs and started looking through the pictures I'd shot today during sledding fun.

Hubby poked his head into the living room. "Is Kimo in with her?"

No need to specify which her; we know who Kimo has claimed as her own.

I smiled. "Yeah."

Here it's worth noting that I didn't question how Kimo came to be in the bedroom. Kimo has pulled fast ones before, and snuck into rooms, cuddling up with stuffed animals and you almost don't know she's there. I just sort of figured that Kimo had followed Middle upstairs.

"I thought so," Hubby said, about to shoot holes in my theory. "I saw Middle carry her up there."

That little stinker.

No, I'm not sure which one I'm talking about.

However, I went up to check on Special Edition when I heard something fall while she was in the shower (she was very tired after all the snow fun this afternoon), and checked on the kids for good measure.

Kimo was still there, curled up next to Middle.

That's a devoted kitty.

Post-Jonas Stats

Attention, faithful blog readers! We are alive and well.

Buried under 3 feet of snow, but alive and well.

Ironically, we didn't lose power during the storm at all. Today, however, now that it's not snowing like gangbusters anymore, it flickered on and off for a couple of minutes late morning.

What have we been doing? Mostly, we've been holed up in the house.

Except Hubby. Hubby has been marathoning with the snowblower.

Saturday afternoon. Hi, honey!

Snow had reached mid-thigh on Hubby and waist-high on the kids by midafternoon, when Hubby decided he should try to stay ahead of the game. He was out working for an hour with the snowblower, and came back to his starting point—having only cleared the sidewalks and a path down the driveway—to discover that at least two inches had fallen while he'd been working. He gave up and came inside to thaw out.

Not sure where my front steps went.

The kids gamboled out to "help," but really just ran around screaming about the amount of White Death falling from the skies. Well, Oldest did help with the shovel. A little. There was just too much snow for her to be able to assist much.

Why, yes, the snow is more than half Middle's height.

The tall hedges at the front corner of the house began to look like Mordor.

Church today was canceled, like just about darn near everywhere else in south-central Pennsylvania. We considered ourselves fortunate to have a snow blower, although Hubby confessed that this year, he really wished I'd said yes to the flamethrower four years ago.

Special Edition has never seen snow like this. On Friday night, when we had about three inches of snow and still had grass sticking up through the tops, she said it was more than she'd ever seen. Saturday afternoon, she tracked me down to ask an important question: "Did you know the car has disappeared?"

Car 54, where are you?

Yes, we know the car is buried.

Last night, she went out with Hubby around 6, to take a look. Next thing I know, she's knocking on the door, asking if I'll come out and play. Dinner wasn't ready yet, and the kids were watching TV... Sure, why not?

We made snow angels in the street.

She jumped in the snowbanks created when Hubby made his rounds with the snowblower, causing more snow to cascade into the cleared sidewalk.

And she giggled a lot.

*faceplant*

"Your father is going to get mad that you've made a mess," I said with a chuckle.

"I don't care. It's my first snow! He can deal."

Knowing how much Hubby loves the sound of her laugh, I didn't think he'd mind cleaning up. Not too awful much, anyway.

I found Narnia...

I went out to look at the car this morning.

When did we get a minivan?