The first snowfall of the year took place on November 29. It was enough snow for my kids to run outside and build a snowman.
Other than lifting the middle section atop the bottom section, Clara built the snowman herself, and she and Charlie affixed the eyes, nose, mouth, and other parts completely on their own.
I felt this odd, elastic-like feeling of both pride and sadness as I watched them finish it off.
My girl is old enough to build a snowman almost completely on her own. Hooray for her.
My girl is old enough to build a snowman almost completely on her own.
She doesn’t need me anymore.
I felt like I was being pulled in both directions simultaneously, because I was. It turns out that the window in which your child needs your help with snowmen is tiny. Yesterday she wasn’t big enough to help at all, and today she almost doesn’t need me anymore.
Happily, I live in New England, where the weather changes by the minute. Just two days later, our snowman looked like this:
One day later, he was gone completely.
Snow will fall again, I’m sure, and with it will be more opportunities to help my children build snowmen while they still need me.