It’s been a while since I last wrote, and one new thing is that Winter has started early in full force, with over seven inches of snow and gale winds. I am looking out my back window seeing a blanket of snow with no more disconcerting leaves strewn across the lawn, and darn I was going to get out there too. Not enough snow to make snow angels but enough to make snowmen with the neighbourhood youngsters. My children are too old now to do so, but the memories I have of them are very long and happy ones. We would bundle them both up, with long johns, then their bulky snow suits, boots, mittens attached with strings and hats under the snowsuit hood. It took a lot of hard work bundling them up, first Jonathan with his leg brace, which took the longest. Addison was last and didn’t take so long as he didn’t squirm and followed orders quite well. As soon as this was all accomplished, the proverbial words came out of Jonathan’s mouth, “Mommy, I have to go to the bathroom”, and then before we even got one step outside, I was undressing them both to use the lavatory or bathroom to go pee. These little memories happened more than once, it seemed to be a ritual with these little guys, and every time we started to get our snow gear on this would happen. You would think I would learn my lesson after all these years, however, I would go through the same process every snowfall, with two eager boys ready to make a snowball and begin the annual trek into the beautiful white background. After two failed attempts, you would think I would learn my valuable lesson, but no it was not to be. It was something in their cherubic faces that always kept us going, and despite the cold, we enjoyed the weather making snow angels, snowmen and snowballs galore.
After an hour of cold and icicles hanging from their gloves, it was time to come inside to warm up and drink hot Ovaltine with marshmallows, sitting by the fireplace. A hot bath was always in order then warmed up clean clothes afterwards, with a few favourite videos for easy viewing by the fire. After an early lunch, they would all be so darn tired that a nap was needed for all three of us. As per usual, the boys would nap for a minimum of an hour, then scoot downstairs with each other in tow. Always trying to escape the watchful eye of their Mother. At this time, my rest time was over and it was time for their favourite television shows after playing in the kitchen with all of the different toys and games we had available. Some of them were imaginary games which we made up, such as The Wizard of Oz, and both Jonathan and Addison took turns being their beloved characters. Jonathan was the Tin Man, and Addison was the Scarecrow. I was Glinda, the Good Witch and played the music from The Wizard of Oz by FRANK l. BAUM. This imaginary game took over an hour with many different characters coming into play. The boys would both take much glee in being The Cowardly Lion, The Little People, “Lions, Tigers, and Bears, Oh, My”. They each would delight when I was the Wicked Witch and a stuffed animal playing Toto. We all walked around the house and adjoining rooms to “Follow The Yellow Brick Road”. This is when the winged monkeys would approach and we would all fight them off. Then we pretended to fall asleep when approaching the poppy-filled field on the way to the Wizard of Oz’s castle. That’s when the Wicked Witch flew over and wrote in the sky “surrender Dorothy”. We all walked around and marched in unison to the castle, where Dorothy proceeded to knock on the door, along with the rest of us and let us in to see the Wizard of Oz. After much bravado and two hours of singing, it was time for dinner, so The Wizard of Oz was coming to a close. We sped it up a bit and Dorothy, along with all of her new friends, could attend the meeting of the Great and powerful Oz. This is where certificates were issued to every member of the crew, after finding out that The Wizard wasn’t really the powerful and great individual he professed to be. Toto had pulled the curtain back and Dorothy saw him for what he really was. After an emotional and exciting day of play, my two boys were finally tired and it was time for cleanup. I scooted them up to the bathroom and gave them a fun time in the bath with their toys, then nightclothes, brushed their teeth, and read four library books. Jonathan and Addison call this the 4B’s, and to this day they both still remember this. I hope they will always remember the days we played long and hard, outside and inside. Imagination is a valuable tool.
Gail Siemko 