Hans didn't care about snow last winter. He did drool over it, but he drooled over *everything*, since he was teething, so I'd hardly consider that proof of his interest. So I consider yesterday's snowfall to be his first real snow. Because he was actually aware that it happened. (And yes, this is the first snow we've had this winter. Late, isn't it? I'm not complaining. . . )
So I suited him up and he looked like the stereotypical poor kid in a movie who can't move and has his arms sticking out from all the padding and extra clothes. He just stood there looking pathetic, and when he tried to walk he fell down because he wasn't used to his boots. He just sort of laid there in a half-sit/half-lay, not sure what to do, afraid to move, but in a very uncomfortable position. It was so hilarious. If I was a sympathetic mother, I would have cried with him, but I couldn't help myself and started laughing. It was SO funny. Poor guy. He's over the emotional trauma. I think.
So I took him outside. Just in time for it to start raining. Yep, the snow turned to rain. Lovely. So he sat in the snow with raindrops falling, not sure what to do with this funny white stuff. He didn't want to move, definitely didn't want to walk. *sigh* Poor guy.
Sooooo. . . this morning we practiced walking in boots, in normal clothes, inside the house. Hans was still petrified, but with some coaxing he finally got it, and then he strutted around the house in his boots, all proud of himself for figuring it out. Yay, Hans! Then we suited back up, went back outside, and re-tried this whole snow thing.
He was very intrigued this time. It was still a little hard for him to walk in the snow with the boots, but he sure tried! And he succeeded some of the time. He also killed the small, pathetic snowman I made. My son, the murderer. He squatted on the ground and hacked away at it forever. Hmm. Maybe it's a psychological reaction to his mother laughing at his misery yesterday :-/.