Title: Winter Wonderland
Author: Cathy (www.cathyswestwing.com)
Timeline: Early in the Our Choice Universe
“It’s a winter wonderland.”
“It’s a blizzard.” I reply without looking up from my paper.
“It’s a Currier and Ives postcard. Take the kids outside.” Donna prompts me…again.
“The roads are closed and nobody’s going to work or school. Go outside and play with
the kids.”
“You just want the house to yourself for an hour.” I set the paper aside and look her in
the eye.
“You? Outside in the clean, winter air? With the children? For an hour? Don’t make me
laugh.” Donna crosses her arms in front of her chest.
“Are you saying I am incapable of that?” I ask. Yes, I know she’s playing me, but she
also knows I can’t resist a dare and if she pulls out that card…
“Completely incapable of that.” She counters.
“You wound me Donnatella.” I hold my hand over my heart in mock pain.
“I’m going to wound you if you don’t take the kids off my hands for an hour.” She
threatens. This is serious. Two children seemed like a piece of cake to Donna, and the
third was going along swimmingly until Tori hit the terrible two’s. Now, after 22 hours of
being snowed in, all bets were off.
“You seem stressed.” I note and pull her onto my lap. I gently rub her shoulders. “Isn’t
that better?”
“Yes, but they’ll tense right up again if you don’t take the kids out of here for awhile.”
“Awhile?” I repeat.
“A half hour. You and the kids outside for a half hour. Surely you can handle that.” She
says snidely.
I smile smugly. Just getting the kids dressed in their winter clothing will take almost the
entire half hour. We’ll have five minutes outside and then come back in to begin the
undressing portion of the program. “Sure. I can handle a half hour outside-“
“The clock doesn’t start until you’re all dressed and out the door.” She interrupts me.
Damn.
“I’ll take them downstairs. We’ll play foosball and-“
“Tori’s too little to play foosball and the kids need to get out of the house and work off
some energy.”
“Fine. But I’m going to expect some kind of reward when we get back inside.” I demand.
“Your reward will be spending time with your children.” She counters.
“I could do that in here where it’s nice and warm.” I counter.
“What do you want?” She asks point blank.
I just grin.
“The children are snowed in with us, get real.”
“They sleep…eventually.” I argue.
“They go to sleep earlier when they’re tired from playing outside.” She argues. Is it any
wonder that I adore this woman?
“We have a deal?” I press.
“Fine, but you have to get them ready to go outside too; all of them.” She blinks her
eyes innocently.
“I’ll get the oldest two ready, but you have to handle Tori.”
“I guess getting a two year old dressed is just too much for you.” She examines her
fingernails.
“I’ve helped navigate international crisis, Donnatella.”
“International crisis pale in comparison to dressing a two year old for playing outside in
the winter, Joshua.”
“You know that by the time you get to the third kid, no matter what order you go in, the
other two start two undress while you’re dressing the third because they’re getting too
hot.” I explain.
“Chicken.” That’s just juvenile and really unworthy of a debate between the two of us.
“You’re going to have to do better than that.” I tell her.
“I. Dare. You.” Well…shit. I toss my paper on the floor and push Donna off my lap. We’ll
just see about that.
“Ben, Ally, Tori!” I shout up the stairs. “Who’s ready for a snowman contest?” Three
pairs of legs pound down the stairs, though Tori’s are a little slower and more careful
than the rest.
“Can we make a fort?” Ben asks.
“Sure.” I reply. How hard can that be?
“I want snow angels.” Ally declares.
“I’m not sure how to make-“ I begin.
“Mommy taught me. I can teach you.” She offers.
“Uh…great.” I roll my eyes. “Everyone needs a jacket, hat, mittens…uh…”
“Snow pants, boots, and scarves.” Donna finishes. Times three. Lord help me.
“Mommy, I need help with Snow pants.” Ally announces.
“Daddy will help you, Ally Cat. Mommy’s going upstairs to take a bath.” Donna kisses
each of the kids and tells them to have fun and ‘be good’, but I don’t think she really
means it. Donna’s been very cranky lately.
As predicted, while I’m putting on Tori’s boots, Ben gets hot and starts to disrobe.
“Leave the hat and scarf on Ben.”
“I’m hot.” He complains. I don’t even mention the beads of sweat dripping down my back
and chest from wrestling Tori into her snowsuit; she really hates her snowsuit and
keeps saying that she can’t breathe with it on. I’m 99% certain she’s not suffocating, but
if I accidentally kill one of the children, there is NO WAY this day is ending in the way I
hope, so I unzip it an inch or two just to be on the safe side.
Having fastened the last boot, I declare us ready to go outside only to notice Ally doing
a strange dance in the foyer.
“What’s wrong, Ally Cat?” At four, Ally has lots of words, but she isn’t using any of them
at the moment. She just continues to dance as her eyes dart around the room. Then it
hits me.
“Ally? Do you have to go potty?” I ask with great trepidation.
“Uh-huh.” She bites her lower lip between her teeth and dances faster. Damn.
“Whoa, whoa, wait! Just hold on. I’ll get this off fast.” I pull her snowsuit off faster than I
knew I was capable of and dash with her to the bathroom. We make it just in time. By
the time we return to the foyer, Ben and Tori have partially undressed. Basically I’m
starting over.
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“Bigger!” Tori demands. If this snowman’s head gets any bigger there is no way I’ll be
able to lift it on top of the body. Tori has become our snow person manager. She
seems to hate actually touching the snow herself, but she’s happy to direct the rest of
us.
“It’s big enough, Victoria Helen.” I tell her.
“Bigger!” She insists. I add a minute amount of snow and the child pouts like her
mother, so I add some more. When I lift it up on top of the snow body I can actually hear
my back crack in three different places, but my youngest child is jumping up and down
clapping for me, so I hardly feel the pain.
Until Ben smacks me in the back with a snowball. For a seven year old, or seven and a
HALF year old as Ben says, he’s got a pretty good arm…and aim. It appears that while I
have been diligently making a snow person under the supervision of Tori, and Ally has
made an entire legion of snow angels, my oldest child has been making a pile of
ammunition out of the snow; ammunition which he’s now firing at me. One misses and
accidentally hits Tori which starts the screaming and crying.
Then Ben traipses through the snow angels to level another shot at me and Ally wails.
Has it been 30 minutes yet? It’s got to be close. I calm the girls while subduing Benjamin
on the field of battle. Who says I can’t multi task? However, I am beginning to
understand Donna’s constant state of exhaustion lately. After consulting my watch, I
discover it’s been 28 minutes since we departed from the house. I organize a short walk
around the neighborhood to eat up the last few minutes and when we get back inside,
we’re all desperate to warm up quick.
Donna has a fire blazing in the fire place and we’re all huddled around it in no time. Ally’
s admonishing Tori not to get too close or touch anything near the fireplace. Ben keeps
bringing items from around the house for me to throw in the fire like it’s one huge
science experiment. He laughs in delight as each item goes up in flames. Now I’m
worried that we’re raising a pyromaniac. Donna comes down the stairs a few minutes
later in her robe and slippers. Her face is a light pink from the heat of the bath. She
positively glows.
“Hey, you’re back!” She exclaims. “How was your snow adventure?”
“We had so much fun!” Ally cries out to her. “Come look at my angels!” She pulls Donna’
s hand to lead her to the window and Donna declares she’s never seen such beautiful
snow angels even though it’s almost pitch dark out by now. Tori points out the snow
person we made while Ben gives her some concocted story about his army destroying
my army of snow rangers. Please!
We make hot dogs in the fireplace for our late supper and have a picnic on the family
room floor. Shortly after that we’re putting on pajamas and brushing teeth. Wouldn’t you
just know that Donna’s right again? The kids are out like lights in record time.
I’m lying flat on my stomach, exhausted as well, when Donna straddles me and starts to
give me a back rub.
“God, that feels incredible.” I moan.
“You deserve it. You did a wonderful job with them today.” She whispers in my ear and
it sends shivers down my spine.
“You know there’s no way Ben won our snowball fight, right?” I want to make that
perfectly clear. My wife, however, finds that hysterically funny and collapses next to me
on the bed.
“I’m sure that if he DID win, it was only because you let him.” She placates me. Good
enough. “I thought you were going to lose them when Ben tracked through Ally’s
angels, but you held it together.”
My head pops up in surprise at her accurate account of our activities.
“I might have….watched for awhile.” She admits.
“Uh-huh.” My lips twitch. “You didn’t think I could take care of all three of them, outside,
by myself.”
“That’s not true.” She denies. “I just love watching you with them. You’re a phenomenal
father, Joshua.”
I sit up at her uncharacteristically sentimental words and look into her eyes. They’re
filled with tears.
“What is it?” I ask in concern.
“Nothing.” She shakes her head and wipes the tears away. “Just feeling sentimental, I
guess. Lie back down and I’ll finish your…back rub.” She promises in a sultry voice.
“I’ll take the back rub because I think I broke something lifting the snowballs for our
snow person.” I explain. “But I think I have to take a rain check on the rest. I’m wiped.
Three kids take a lot of energy.”
“They sure do.” Donna agreed. “But we’ve got our balance with them.”
“Sure, but they outnumber us now. We have to be careful.”
“I’ll say.” Donna mutters.
“What?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking that our ratio is about to get even worse.” Donna tells me
and kisses my cheek. I blame exhaustion on the fact that it takes me a full minute to
process what she’s saying.
“Worse?” I repeat incredulously.
“It’s going to be 2 to 1 in their favor by the fall.” She nods. The grin I’m now wearing
nearly splits my face open. Then I think about putting on a fourth snowsuit by next
winter and fall back on the bed. “Don’t worry. We can still take ‘em.” She laughs and
kisses me soundly. “They’re all smaller than us.”
Yeah, they’re smaller than us now but…
Later, I look out into the yard and see the evidence of our afternoon of play. Donna was
right; kids can turn a snowstorm into a winter wonderland. Suddenly I’m anxious to get
out in it again tomorrow.