Snowshoeing

Yesterday, after being stuck in the house for days on end, we loaded up the car and headed to Sky Meadows State Park for some fresh air. We brought our snowshoes and poles in case there was enough snow.  For the record, I would like to say that it wasn't my idea. I enjoy snowshoeing, but not so much with a bunch of whiny kids, and the last time we went we spent the whole time hauling Grace in the sled (it was cold, she was tired, a snowflake got inside her boot, her sock seams were bothering her, etc.).  Plus, the girls were really too small to get the hang of it. We tried again several times last winter, but there was never enough snow.  I figured we would just have to write off the hundreds of dollars we had spent on snowshoeing gear for the entire family. 

I'm happy to say everyone did a great job and we hiked for three hours with nary a complaint. Okay, I lie.  There was some complaining by yours truly. It turns out the trails were rather hilly.  I made us turn around after a while because my  bad knee was donedonedone.  I had really been counting on the kids to complain so I could turn back while still saving face, but the little punks were having too much fun. 

 Spotted:

The elusive American teenager, gracing us with his presence and impressing us with his ability to down his siblings with a single snowball:

The poor kids waiting for their gimpy mother to fish some Aleve out of the backpack.

Everyone collapsed into bed after dinner and slept in this morning. The girls have already asked when we can go again. Henry claims he'll only go if we promise him a Philly cheesesteak afterwards. We still have two days to go before school is back in (can you hear the whimpering in my typing?).