So… winter’s been fun, hasn’t it? I mean, lucky us! ALL THE SNOW FOR US! I feel like we all get amnesia every March and forget that winter is way longer than we’d like. It’s not usually this snowy this late in the season, but snow in March isn’t unheard of. Especially in the last few years. And yet…
I feel like I cannot take one more day of this PRECIPITATION. The snow in my yard is taller than my preschooler. Seriously. My husband had to snowblow paths around our yard (like people do for their dogs) so our children can WALK AROUND OUTSIDE. What fresh hell is this?
Even they are over it. Audrey woke up yesterday with two questions, “Is it a snow day?” When I said no, she replied, “IS IT SPRING YET?!” Sing it, sister.
Then spring will arrive just when we are sure it never will and it’ll flame into blazing summer in an instant. Why must my favorite season be so painfully short? Everything is new and lovely and just warm enough for long sleeves but no coat. Freshly cut grass and lighter evenings. So good. I am telling you, I feel like that will never happen ever again. Every year around this time. When I was pregnant with Audrey, I was convinced we’d be using a sleigh as our transport to the hospital for delivery… in May.
I guess the point of this post is to make a promise (and provide a reference for myself for next March) that spring will spring. Heh. The clocks move forward this weekend. We are crawling toward the finish line, fellow parents. My friend swears to me she saw crocuses today, struggling their little leaves off to bloom through the snow. Hang in there, friends.