In February we built snow caves--yes, plural, caves--because, well, there was a lot of snow in our front yard and what little (or big) boy doesn't want to climb in a snow cave?
Unfortunately, the snow cave caved in when Jonah climbed up on it (after we explained what would happen if he climbed on it).
This was cause for much weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth until...
Dad turned the once-snow-cave into a snow tunnel which then became an Olympic race course because the boys had been staying up later than usual every night watching the Olympics.
Now we had our very own luge and there was much rejoicing...
and laughter...
and silliness.
Thank heavens for dads! (because Mom would never think to put a 9-month-old on top of a 5 and 3-year old and send them down a snow-tunnel luge, but look how happy everyone is!)
This is how the kitchen looks whenever I am making any meal or whenever he isn't busy sucking on his and his brothers' toothbrushes in the bathroom.
This was cause for much weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth until...
Dad turned the once-snow-cave into a snow tunnel which then became an Olympic race course because the boys had been staying up later than usual every night watching the Olympics. 
Now we had our very own luge and there was much rejoicing...
and laughter...
and silliness.
Thank heavens for dads! (because Mom would never think to put a 9-month-old on top of a 5 and 3-year old and send them down a snow-tunnel luge, but look how happy everyone is!)
Even with all the snow, Max biked to the hospital every day--only fell a couple times, and only once slid out into traffic, but luckily we still have him with us. 
If you'll notice he already has a little scar just an inch or so above his eyebrow from face-planting into my mom's bannister when he was only around one or so. Poor guy. Hopefully facial scars don't become a regular thing, but as Max says, "Chicks dig scars."
