My favorite time of the year is here. Or at least I always think it is my favorite time of the year, until it comes. I think the first flurry's of the season will always be special and magical and I want my children to experience that feeling. But in reality, when the snow comes and I have to bundle the kids up and push that stroller through the streets of Brooklyn where no one bothers to shovel, my heart fills with dread. Right now, my oldest is only two years old and can't really play with the snow, I do think that when the kids get older and they can make a snowman in the backyard and sled down the porch steps on a garbage can cover (we used to do that), the old joy will come back to me as I hear my children shriek in delight.

Pictures of the streets of Brooklyn, outside my house. This was the first real snow of the season.

Pictures of my brother's street in Texas, they had an ice storm and the streets turned to a complete ice sheet. The kids don't get to see snow that often and were very excited for a chance to go sledding. They had to get pretty creative since they don't have sleds.