A Snowy Accident

Snow, Sufjan Stevens in my ears and writing on the train. Heaven.

I love snow. I love how it makes the world still and quiet, how everything ugly becomes covered in beautiful. How it collects on the trees, making them droop with white. How it piles high on the surface of rocks and walls, making strange shadowy illusions. How it collects in your hair, on your eyebrows and eyelashes, on your tongue. What is there not to love?

I'm having to learn how to survive a very cold winter with a baby (okay, my Finnish friend, there is no need to laugh at my idea of a 'very cold winter'). I am beginning to feel prepared now, and less fearful that Ruben will suffer frostbite, or that all his food will be frozen when he needs it. I did not, however, foresee the event that occurred today on our balcony. Nap times have become impossible with Ruben, and so I finally relented and followed the advice of all of my Scandinavian friends, and put him in a pram to sleep outside in the cold, all rugged up against the weather. Nap times used to be a disaster - it would take at least an hour to put him to sleep and then he would sleep no longer than forty minutes. Ever. Ever ever ever. Now, rugged up and cosy, I put him on the balcony and walk in circles for anywhere between 1 and 5 minutes, then he sleeps anywhere from forty minutes to three hours. It has been a nap time revolution!

The scene of the crime

And so, this morning, nap time rolled along. I dressed him in fleecey underclothes, a thick beanie, then his very very warm bear suit, and then popped him in his extra warm sleeping-bag thingy. I then lay him down in the little bed in the pram, put on the rain cover and went outside. Walk walk walk, he's just drifting off to sleep and then I slip. Very slowly, just a little *slip. But I pulled down on the handle of the pram, which meant that both the pram and I ended up on the ground. The pram tipped forwards and in slow motion I saw my almost-asleep baby tip upwards and forward out into the snow. If he'd just gone into the snow, no big deal. But instead, his head got caught part way on the rain cover, so that his face was totally wedged up against the plastic and pulled up much higher than his neck should allow it. And I was there slipping and sliding in the snow while I watched him try to breathe, the plastic being sucked around his face, his eyes getting wider and wider. It was horrifying. He was suffocating right there in front of me. I yelled for Duncan, who raced up and tried to pull the pram up, which only pulled his head back further... yikes. Eventually I managed to slide over to him and slide my hands underneath to lift him and release his face. It was probably only ten seconds but it felt like ten minutes of watching him there.

It took me a while to recover, and Ruben took another hour or so to settle with Daddy and finally fall to sleep.

It is not an option to be scared of snow here. So how did we recover? We made sure the bean was okay (he woke up smiling and babbling... phew) and then we headed out to our first real Christmas markets of the season and enjoyed the snow. And glühwein. And our first fondue post-Ruben. It was a good'n.

I'm a big brave dog, I'm a big brave dog...

Happy families in the Fondue hut :)