A Change in the Air... OR Not

I started writing this post last week, thinking I would eventually get around to posting it, but then forgot amidst diaper changes, laundry, making baby food, attempting to shower whenever possible, etc... It's kind of funny to compare it with this week:

Last Week:

We set out for a run today, which very quickly became a walk, bummer.  I could blame this on the fact that I busted my knee, falling down the stairs with a baby in my arms.  Yes, he’s fine, I ate the landing with my right knee and saved the baby.  All in all, my pride was probably more bruised, although my knee is catching up in various shades of purple and yellow like a hideous rainbow as visible evidence of my lack of grace.

I wonder who lives here?

I could blame our short-lived run on my accident prone self, but really it’s not my knee’s fault.  Blame lies somewhere where motivation hides, along with the hidden bin of "cute" clothes that don’t fit since Will was born, hiding in the farthest, deepest, darkest corner of my closet.  I know because I recently peeked and tried to make something fit that obviously didn’t, bad move mama, bad move.  But that's another story for another day.

Melting pools & puddles, everything is wet & squishy this time of year

On our stroll, I wanted to be conscious of all of my senses, so I could point out smells, sounds, and           the like to Will in his stroller, knowing how important it is for his growing mind to hear rich language.  As we headed up the driveway I realized how eager I am for the days we can take listening walks together with notebooks, pencils, & cameras in hand, jotting down all the amazing things we’ll find.  Children ALWAYS find amazing things because they can see beyond what’s in front of their faces.  They can spot the tiny star shapes in a bed of moss, the intricate fan lining the hidden belly of a mushroom, the funny little bubbles that gurgle up from puddles.  I have no doubt that they can see swingers in the birches and it’s one of the reasons I became a teacher, I think we should all see like that.                                                                         

Mud... everywhere

Here in Maine we joke about how there are 4 seasons: almost winter, winter, mud and mosquitos/road construction.  Heck, there’s even a kid’s song immortalizing mud, if you don’t know it, check it out. I Love Mud by fellow Mainer Rick Charette.  Early spring (which isn’t here yet, but I am wild with hope that it’ll be arriving soon) is thick with oozing, gushing, mess making mud.  Our driveway is crisscrossed with the lines of hundreds of tiny streams created by melting snow that inevitably mix and create a soupy mess that makes walking and pushing a stroller something akin to trying to slurp the thickest milkshake through a straw.  At night, the thick soup freezes back into solid dirt. 

Everything around us adheres to a strict color pallet of grey, green, brown, and white.  Gray sky, green conifers, brown mud oozing underfoot, and white snow dusted with cinnamon & sugar soil.  We look out of place, me in my powder blue jacket and Will in his bright red snowsuit.  

Someone's been munching

Deep in the mud, frogs & insects lie waiting patiently, their time is coming and soon our small pond will be teeming with life, sending up a raucous chorus of frog song.  Will won’t be using the white noise machine in his nursery because the pond will provide a concert every night to lull him off to sleep.  

I am so eager for the scent of lilac to come dancing on a breeze through the windows.  It’s coming... days like today let us know to hold on just a bit longer, spring is hiding just around the corner if we can hold on just a bit longer.  

Today:

A foot of snow fell yesterday.  Before that, our lawn was nearly bare.  I knew this would happen, it always does in March here in Maine... always.  I will let the pictures do the talking. Happy First Day of Spring everyone, you've gotta love a good joke from Mother Nature!