That's been my mantra this winter. Oh, I'm sure I'll be feeling differently in a few months. But for now, on solo-Mama days at least, the thought of bundling up four kids in winter gear only to then strap them into (four!) car seats to go somewhere out in the world? It just doesn't excite me.
So Home is where it's at for us this winter. All sorts of changes in our space were made (starting with the grand studio-bedroom switcheroo early in the fall) to accommodate as much inside activity as this little house can handle. And outside there's some action happening too - in the form of a backyard ice rink!
I can take very little credit for this crafty project - except for maybe some slight nudging of my people out the door. Nope, this project was all the work of Steve and the kids. Measuring, filling, shoveling and now - seriously skating.
{The specs for those interested: there's some great info out there online, of course. Here's a good one. Ours was a bit more on the low-key, low-budget, ignore-the-directions DIY kind of scale we know best - for better or worse. There was too much ice on the ground to drive stakes, so we went with snowbank walls and a sheet of industrial plastic. After three consecutive days of below-freezing weather (um, that would be all month), the ice was ready.}
Since it's been skate-ready for a few weeks now, they've been taking full advantage. Skating both day and night on their own, with each other, with friends, and even with their wobbly-kneed skating parents. And just like last year, Calvin celebrated another 'birthday on the ice' with a day-long skate session this weekend.
For the most part, Harper and I watch the action out the window from the comfort of my rocking chair, right in front of the fire. But I get out there too. Ezra and I had a little nighttime one-on-one hockey session a few nights ago, and this sports-phobic (and seriously wobbly-ankled) Mama was a little freaked out at just how much I loved the sound of that stick hitting the puck. For real. It's a strangely satisfying sound...something akin to the embroidery needle poking through linen. (Alright, alright...so maybe I should get out a little bit more.)
