Harvey has a snowsuit. That's what we call it, anyways, but it to this point has not seen any contact with the snow—at least not the snow on the ground, at any rate. When he goes outside, it's either in the stroller or—far more common—in the Ergo Baby carrier, and he doesn't have to worry about such pedestrian concerns as touching the ground. That all changed today!
While it's still coldish, it's nowhere near as bitter as it has been for most of the last month. Since we three squibix family boys were hanging out by ourselves for most of the afternoon, we decided to take advantage of the warmer temps and play outside. Rascal was very appreciative, since it's been ages since he got to run on the lawn. Harvey was nonplussed for the same reason; and in his case the indoor period was a significantly longer fraction of his life. Not since early November has he been able to move around outside under his own power—a full one-fourth of his life! He hardly knew what to do with himself.
In his defense, the design of his snowsuit may have had something to do with his immobility. Whenever I put it on him I can't help but think of the 'hardsuit' of science fiction (and, I suppose, deep-sea diving fact). Like space marines in their larger-than-life armored suits, Harvey's snowsuit-encased limbs are extended several inches beyond his actual hands and feet. Unlike the space marines, though, Harvey doesn't have neurofeedback powered servo-motors to help him move his gigantic outfit around. Also he was disappointed he couldn't get his hands out to eat the grass. Oh well; it was still nice sitting outside.
(Note our lack of snow. Unlike Washington DC and, I don't know, Florida, we have not been seeing a great many snowstorms this winter. Just cold cold weather. Why aren't we ice skating?!)