The snow is gone. I saw my first robin yesterday. The long icy winter is fading into the distance at last. Yet, despite my undeniable joy at seeing the buds swell and the crocuses emerge from their sleepy beds, a strange sense of dread is prowling about my brain, peering out from the shadows.
For along with spring comes an enormous amount of, well, Stuff.
Like, Stuff To Do.
Science projects, sports schedules, an inordinately huge number of birthday parties, planning (and paying for) summer activities, vacations and camp, thinking about having to wear shorts and (gulp) bathing suits, fundraisers, tag sales, spring cleaning, plays, taxes, musicals, orthodontist/doctor/dentist appointments, concerts, field trips, practices. I feel like I'm on a rollercoaster, inexorably being pulled to the top of the highest hill, sensing the inevitable blinding rush to follow but having no ability to being in control of it (or even enjoy it) whatsoever.
This is an unusual feeling for me. I have a few friends who greet spring annually with a distinct lack of excitement (which has always puzzled me), but I am usually over the moon at the first whiff of fresh dirt. While I am thrilled to finally be done with the layers of snow and ice, spring's reality is staring me in the face. GET BUSY, she says. Get moving, get mulching, get going, get cleaning, get planting, get to practice, get everyone in the car - again, get the dog out, get exercising, get new accessories, get thin, get in touch, get out from under, get together, get winter clothes packed up, get closets cleaned out, get in shape, get back to everybody, get organized, get your hair done, get in control, get involved, get caught up, get with it, get over it, get A LIFE.
Way too much pressure if you ask me.
Perhaps the way to welcome spring is to not GET anything. I already have so much. Think I'll just do my best to be grateful for what is, and take some deep breaths along the way. Before you know it, we'll be yanking on those bathing suits. Funny how mine always shrinks during the winter. I guess they contract in the cold...
Welcome
When my boys were in nursery school, one of the main goals of the program was to give the children the opportunity and self-confidence to speak for themselves. Their teachers would tell them to "use your words." This became the child's cue to look at their friend and to tell them how they were feeling in a direct, simple way. This phrase became commonplace in our home and was repeated countless times during conflicts between siblings, angry episodes, and in quiet moments to help tears turn into self-expression.
That little sentence gave me the inspiration to start this blog. So now, here I am, using my words.
That little sentence gave me the inspiration to start this blog. So now, here I am, using my words.
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