Living on the east coast, we’re lucky enough to enjoy the magic of snow in the winter. I never get tired of seeing snowflakes falling around me or waking up to a fluffy white blanket enveloping the streets out of my window. Since having a baby, I really looked forward to introducing her to this cold, but beautiful, experience.
This past winter was our baby’s first snowstorm. After a heavy night of snow, we walked over to our local park the next morning, dressed in our snowshoes, giant puffy coats, waterproof gloves, and warm hats.
Our baby was a little over 18 months old, and walking steadily on her own. We dressed her in her first snow pants, waterproof boots, gloves, and a snug knitted hat -- she was so covered with puffy clothes that she could barely walk in the snow when we placed her down.
She reached down and tried to pick up the snow in her mittens, the crystals turning into powder as she tried to investigate them.
Looking around her, my baby was in wonder. She pointed at the ice, wanting to know what it was. “It’s snow!” we explained. We pointed out the bigger kids on makeshift sleds, saying that this would be her in a few years. She walked through the snow, occasionally trying to taste it, pointing out babies sitting in big snow banks like she’d been.
Together we built a snowman. Sure, it was small and a little wonky looking, but she enjoyed every moment of it.
While my little one won’t remember the beautiful moments like we will, one day we’ll show her the photos of her very first snow, and tell her what a sweet, special day it was for all of us.
Christine Knight is an Australian expat and mother of one enthusiastic toddler. Now living in Brooklyn, NY, she is co-founder of brunchwithmybaby.com, a site dedicated to helping parents navigate the NYC and Sydney food scenes with their offspring.