blizzards, brownies, & snowmobiles.

tonight i will sleep in my own bed with my uber-soft pillow after nine days gone.  this post was supposed to be sunday’s, but that’s how it goes around here.  anyway.

we tripped up to my parents’ place in north dakota, six of us in a minivan, for the annual snowmobiling extravaganza week in which we strap helmets onto our children, transforming them into real-life bobbleheads, & pack them onto papa’s snowmobile.  i dare say my dad lives for this bit of us, these days with his grandkids that strongly resemble him, for them to enjoy a hobby that he alone has for them.  (i know gram lives for it;  she tells us all the time.  :))

feb-march, farm 092

i love going out to my parents’ place, to the farm where i grew up.  this year we came in, just ahead of a blizzard delivering 15″ of powdery soft snow, my kids’ first real blizzard.  growing up in north dakota, a snowstorm isn’t a blizzard unless the snow flies horizontally.  check.  & you really can’t see.  check.  what better time to put your beloved little ones onto   a grown-up machine?

my children were undeterred.  one morning, as i pushed on mittens & clipped helmet straps, the temperature read 4 degrees.  before windchill.  (nodak-ers always refer to the windchill.  or maybe that’s transplants like me that feel fancy & smart referring to the windchill.)  those giganto, XXL-size helmets kept their little bean heads warm.  being outside kept their hearts happy.  check, check.

when the kids weren’t out burning papa’s fuel on the arctic cat, they were inside playing wii or some made-up game with one of my toys from when i was a kid.  talk about your solid dose of nostalgia.  the teddy bear kieran’s now claimed as his own.  the fisher price doll house with the light blue door bell that actually rang.  the tiny pink elephant someone gave me when i was born.  BORN, people.  like, 36 years ago.  those are some awesome toys.

at one point kieran says to me, “mom, punch me & then i’ll fall down & then take my picture.”  um. . . here’s he, NOT being punched by his mother.

one of my favorite bits of the week was an hour one afternoon my dad & i spent flipping through old photos of my grandma’s, passing them back & forth to identify that canadian cousin, that great uncle on my dad’s side, my cousin scott when he was little playing in the water beside the dock at the lake.  like i said, i was made for nostalgia.  & of course, mom’s marshmallow brownies, which were in full supply.

plus, we hotelled en route, to alleviate the “are we there yet?” of the nine hour trip.  so there was swimming.  snow gear packed alongside swim gear in the van.  how to spell vacation.

there’s so much more to unpack, for traveling is catharsis for me.  i talk my whole life through beside andy as he drives us into happy oblivion, a full family behind us, oblivious to the plans mommy’s making for their lives.  our happy, full, blessed lives together.

& those plans?  they will most definitely continue to include brownies & snowmobiles.
blizzards, optional.

2 thoughts on “blizzards, brownies, & snowmobiles.

  1. See…I told you I enjoyed your writing 🙂 Thanks for the glimpse into your childhood and the joys of watching your kids as they grow through theirs.

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