You've got to keep your mind wide open

At the risk of you rolling your eyes and muttering under your breath that, Yes! We get it already! It's been a crazy intense winter in Indiana! I'm going to dedicate this one more (One last? We'll see) post to the topic of snow.

For the most part, my kids have adjusted to spending twenty minutes prep time on dressing appropriately before heading out to play. Piles of hats and boots and mittens and scarves we now keep constantly by our entry way for them to rummage through and mix and match. Elijah, Priscilla, Benjamin - they are tired of being cooped up inside.

Three-year-old Mary, however, has had more difficulty overcoming these seasonal inconveniences, opting rather to stay warm and coat-free in our living room with her Rubbermaid tub full of Barbies and baby dolls. She's braved it a few times, but only briefly. It's just not her thing, I figured. And that was that.

Here is your choice, my husband, Troy, who is a strong believer in children getting out of doors as frequently as possible, told Mary yesterday, take a nap or go sledding with us. Begrudgingly, she chose the latter. And then as preschoolers are apt to do, she surprised us once again by quite suddenly and inexplicably opening her mind to the possibility that adapting to (rather than avoiding) our blizzard-y environment can be less than miserable, enjoyable even. Almost two hours, three snowball fights and ten snow angels later, Troy had to lure her out of our yard with promises of pizza.

All night it snowed; it's snowing now. When I took out the garbage, it was up to my knees. Everything is white, thickly white and sparkling. I'd be annoyed, I suppose, exasperated by its relentlessness if I wasn't so in awe. You should see my street, I'm not kidding - it's extraordinary.