And for once I was SuperMom

Wednesday, March 20, 2013


Hello, vernal equinox, the day that brings us verdant spring.  You greet me with a lovely blanket of...nasty wet ice and snow.
All my memories of spring come with a chilly prickliness to them.  The season of goosebumps.  My first few transitions out of winter I tired of wearing my coat in March, there were many shivery drives across towns, as I remained in denial of the still freezing temperatures.  So far I have kept judgement at bay, waiting to see what a true New England spring would bring.  
And today on the first day of spring, the official calendar marked, real, first day of spring I fear tripping on the frozen ice that coats our apartment stairs.
Is it necessary to say that I am done?
A few days last week were warmer, I could feel the notes of warmth underneath the wind, the promise of shorts and tank tops in the sun that hit my back.  The hope of beach days in the spot of sweat that developed on my back as I walked pushing stroller, with baby strapped to my back.  The hope that I could let my children run around near naked instead of cornering them and covering their precious skin in layers of fleece. What's more joyous than watching my daughter run barefoot through grass?
The tree at the bottom of our walk has already started to bud.  Spring is coming, the tree knows it.  Knows it better than I do.  Nothing makes me more fatalistic than this time of year, I turn Eeyore and find myself in the corner of a room, 'It will never be warm again, no never,' my droll voice goes on.  Saying something I know not to be true.  

It will come, though, it always does.  The warmth blows away the chill, the trees bud, flowers bloom.  I will see the skin of my arms again and the sheer thought of wearing a scarf will me sweat.

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