We actually got a little bit of a winter here in Texas this year. Paxton even got to experience a sprinkling of snow! Whether it relates to my roots in Pennsylvania or the fact that I'm forty-pounds overweight, I don't know, but I'm always hot. I dread summer every year because it is months of sweaty misery for me. The only thing enjoyable about summer for me is time spent in the water, and even then the joy is hampered because I have to consistently make sure that both Paxton and I are covered with gobs of sunscreen, because we both fry instantly when we're exposed to the brutal Texas sun.
Every book about Christmas, every holiday song, waxes poetic about the beautiful white blanket of snow on the ground and the sassy snowmen. To Paxton, this must be as fanstastical as unicorns and talking bugs. It just isn't real. He's seen snow in his life, but it's been so rare that he, of course, has no recollection. When he was two, we got a lovely Texas ice storm that we carried him around outside to enjoy. And the year prior, we took him to Pennsylvania in December where he tenatively touched the snow and recoiled. With the one day of light snow this year, both Chris and I took him outside for adventures. I walked with him around the neighborhood and we marveled at our footprints and those of the local deer. We tried to make snow angels, but mostly kicked up gravel. We found a patch of ice and pretended to skate in our shoes. It was the most fun I've had outside in a long time! It was fun to share it with my little guy.
Of course, since Paxton was born, winter means sickness. For as long as he's been alive, if there's a virus to catch, he does. At first I attributed it to teething and the fact that his fat little fists were always in his mouth. Now I have no idea what to blame. Bad hand-washing habits? A compromised immune system from his constant allergies? Who knows, but from the time the weather begins to bring the slightest chill, his nose starts pouring like a faucet. He's not alone in his health struggles. As we have playdates with his little friends, I hear familiar coughs and watch all the moms stand vigilant with their Kleenex. I try to tell myself that he's building up one hell of an immune system that should kick in around kindergarten, but I don't really buy it. I think once you welcome kids into the family, you just have to stock up on cold medicine and Vick's because God knows you're going to use it!
Gibson is only ten-weeks-old and he already has had three little colds. It's scary to hear a tiny baby coughing or rubbing his red little eyes. Luckily he has yet to run a fever, and we've made it through his first round of vaccinations, but it still sends a shiver down my spine when Paxton moves in to kiss him on the mouth or some random preschooler tries to hold his hands or coughs near him. I'm not the type to hide out in the house to protect my kids from illness, but I should probably be more dilligent about teaching good hand-washing skills to Paxton. God only knows what kind of germs linger in those jumpy castles and on the community toys passed around at library storytime. But my little guy is always very happy to bring them home with us and share with his family and friends. That's what you get when you've got a big heart.
Tired boy checking out the pink flamingos. 
A brief pose with the lions on our way out. 
Cool aquarium in the toddler section. 
Giant tortoise and giant boy. 
Getting ready to take a dip in the wading water in the toddler section. 
Two friends hangin' at the zoo. 
Resting on the wall. 
Rock climbing. 
Taking in the sights. 
