Necessity is a mother

This morning, driven more by the need to get out of the house, than by the need for cabbage, I decided to take the babies on a walk to the Ramstore about a mile away. Natasha and I made this trip at least twice a week in the summer, and it looks like we're on track to do the same this winter. My getting-everyone-bundled-up system is still being ironed out, so I should not have been surprised when, about five minutes after leaving the Embassy, I noticed that Natasha was not wearing boots. Just her snowpants, her down parka, a hat, mittens and little pink cotton socks. I had decided to put on her boots after putting her in the stroller, and then forgot completely. It's a miracle I made it as far as I did without being flogged by a babushka for exposing her to the elements like that.

I looked in the basket for the pink fleece blanket I usually keep there. Empty. I had taken the blanket for Zoia's swing when she spit up on the other two warm ones we keep in the house. Nothing in the cupholder, or in my pockets for that matter. I tried to pull down her snowpants to cover her feet, but they actually fit her properly so that didn't work.

So I had a decision to make. Walk another 10 minutes to Ramstore, spend 10 minutes in the store, and then walk 15 minute back home? It was about 20 F . Downright balmy after last week.

No, I couldn't do that. Natasha would be fine, but the babushki would have my head. Reluctantly, I turned around, kicking myself for wasting 20 minutes' getting-everybody-ready-time for a mere five minutes outside.

And then inspiration struck.


Those would be my red-velvet-and-Thinsulate gloves on her feet. I bought them at Marshalls to wear on the just-warm-enough-to-be-somewhat-fashionable days. Turns out they are actually warm enough to wear on it's-so-cold-that-I-don't-care-if-I-look-like-a-giant-brown-caterpillar days! And warm enough to serve as boots, should the need arise. Natasha's feet were toasty when we got home.