To take advantage of the good fortune of my working from home on this frigid January Tuesday, I decided I'd "rock" what I'd like to call a cozy Burlington ballet outfit. I layered a comfy wool sweater over a soft turtleneck. I pulled on the new warm "boot socks" my mom bought me for Christmas and stretchy skinny jeans which aren't of the Pajama Jean label but are pretty much the same thing. Then I pulled on the leg warmers I knit myself a few years ago, one of which is longer than the other. Much better than the yoga pants and running shirt I'd been wearing since the night before, I decided. (Never mind that it was noon and I hadn't showered. Still haven't actually.)
Pleased that I'd chosen to "put myself together" for the sake of a mood boost, I put in a pair of cool earrings that I bought this summer at Sweet Lady Jane. If not quite stylish, this little ensemble that I'd assembled was definitely reflective of my style. (Think: I'm-leaving-dance class-but-too-lazy-to-get-fully-dressed.) Then I took this photo, angled to make my thigh look much smaller than it really is.
Mood boosted. After logging a few hours of writing (a story that I should be wrapping right about now), I left to pick up the boys. Having spent nearly two weeks hanging with them for full days, it felt a weird to have a whole day without them.
BUT.... My fingers remained frozen for the entire 15-minute drive. I could see my breath with every exhale. When I entered Kai's classroom, I noticed that the tips of my fingers were yellow. Yellow. I bundled Kai in clothes that made him wider than he was tall and we headed to Julian's classroom where I fought with him to put on his coat, hat and gloves. During this time, Kai ditched his hat. I let him enjoy the freedom of a bare head while I fought with his stupid (new) zip-up fatso toddler mittens that wouldn't zip. Finally, I conceded that they were too small and let him go outside with tiny bare hands, hoping that they, too, would not turn yellow or worse. I will spare you the interim details and skip to the part where Jules strips down on the ride home, causing me to have to repeat this entire process in our driveway. I hate winter. Today, I hate Vermont.
But, yes, I am grateful that once in a while it is warmer than 9 degrees in Vermont. And, for today, that's enough.