We spent New Year's Eve proper at the party our friends always host, but, before that, we braved the cold for just a few minutes to try our feet at ice skating.
Once every few years, when it's projected to be really freaking cold for so many days in a row (technical term), the city floods a low-lying area in one of our parks to make an ice skating rink. I don't think it's happened since the Kid was born, or at least since he's been old enough to do more than toddle, so I was excited to take him out to have a go.
Aside from some snarking about being required to wear a scarf and a hat, he thought it was pretty great. We didn't have skates, but I think that was actually better. He was able to slide around much more confidently in his snow boots.
Little Miss? Wanted none of it. She was cold and her hair was static-y and the ground was slippery and....well, I think her face says it all--she was not amused.
Truthfully, my fingers and toes were not happy either, so it was a pretty short excursion. I promised the Kid we'd try again--with thicker socks and mittens, in addition to our hats and scarves--before the arctic weather moves on.