Equinox Thoughts

Spring is officially here, so the calendar says.

I guess the real official day was Saturday. I thought it was Sunday.

I believed it on Sunday. It was lovely on Sunday. The sun shone. No need for coats. My wearing of flip-flops was starting to feel normal and beyond reproach. (I am often chided for I wear them the year-round, whenever I can get away with it without getting frost-bite.)

We got to make our usual trip to Grandma & Grandpa's for Sunday dinner. The sickness of three-quarters of our family had us confined to our household the previous two weeks. (Somehow the plague of our household passed me by, praise be to the heavens.)

Yes, Sunday was lovely. Sunday deserved the title of a spring day.

As for today...meh. Wind and more wind, making that noise that makes me restless as it blows through the eaves of my house. Gray skies again. A little rain, but not the strong, sweet, refreshing kind I adore.

(Come ON, March. Go out like a lamb already. On to the showers and flowers, please.)

But even though there are still days like today where (despite what the calendar says) Winter is hanging on desperately by its fingertips, I can feel that dreary season really is departing. I can feel its final, absolute exit coming soon.

It's like the anticipation of finally getting a deep, prolonged breath of air after being plunged underwater again and again and again.

The spring-cleaning bug is starting to flutter around in my brain. Incessantly. It feels much like the nesting urge that honest-to-goodness attacks me in my late pregnancies. It nags at me constantly, it won't let me rest. I must get things done, I must clean, I must organize, I must awaken and refresh this house after being holed up in it these long months.

Even when I don't have time to do those things (which is, ahem, most of the time) I look around at my home and dream the impossible dream...the dream of all papers thrown out or filed away, cupboards and closets cleaned out and re-organized, clothing and toys and neglected things sorted through and donated or sold or put in storage, surfaces cleared off and dusted and washed and polished.

Ah, the house in my head is a lovely place. A place where every thing sparkles and shines and the only thing left to do is throw open my windows and let the spring breezes carry away the final traces of winter mustiness.

And then I come back to earth and see before me the dishes and laundry and the normal stuff that still isn't (and never truly will be) done.

(Still, its a lovely and inspiring dream.)

I keep thinking, "I can't wait for Jacob's first summer, it will be so fun!"

And then I stop myself and realize his first summer was a year ago.

Really? Yes really.

But he was just 2 and 3 and 4 months old then. Even as a 2nd time mom, I wasn't too keen on venturing out with him in the sun all too often. Especially alone and with my toddler in tow. And I suppose I was just busy. After Jacob arrived in late April and I became responsible for not one but two little human beings, I believe time began to exponentially increase in speed. Here I am nearly one whole revolution of the Earth later, and I honestly feel baffled by how that is possible. Its like I was beamed forward in time somehow and have sustained some kind of partial amnesia...the memories of last spring and summer with my baby have begun evaporating already. (I am getting old. Or I am just not getting enough sleep.)

This spring and summer will be different.

Jacob will be the robust age of 1. (I still can't get over it.)

There will be oodles of trips to the park and the swimming pool and anywhere else fun, picnics and road trips and family reunions and vacations.

And visits to the farmer's market too. I've never been to one of those (I can hear some of my friends saying "REALLY?" Yep, really.). I want to bring fresh, delicious, home-grown things into my house, and I myself am not a gardener or any approximation of a green-thumb bearing human being.

I've been dreaming about experimenting and concocting some fantastic smoothies for the hot days. Mixing up fresh, sweet, cold homemade treats that give my boys colorful mustaches sounds delightful for summer. (I've never made my own smoothies before. I'm excited to try a particular one that involves not only fruit but also spinach...ya know, to sneak in some veggies for the kiddos. Other combination ideas, anyone?)

To state it simply, I am beyond excited about the warmer, lovelier days ahead.

I don't think I've ever craved the spring and summer months as desperately as I do this year.

Jacob's daddy carried him outside on our lovely Sunday afternoon to enjoy the sunshine and fresh air, and to look at the tree that stands outside our home's office window.

A red-headed finch has been visiting that tree. We think he might make a home there. This week we are going to get a bird-feeder for him.

Jacob's daddy put him down on the grass of our front lawn.

I think it was the first time my little one has ever experienced grass.

I was a little sad. It was not soft, tickling green grass. It was stiff, yellow and brown, not yet revived from its months in hibernation.

Jacob didn't want to put his hands on it. He didn't crawl around or explore. He sat in one spot, looking slightly perturbed while tentatively touching the course, strange carpet of our lawn, only to pull his fingers away each time.

That is one of the things I am longing for most...the green, when will the green come? When will the snow on the mountains finally disappear, when will the trees get their leaves and blooms and when will I start hearing the hum of lawnmowers? This is unusual for me to say, but I can't wait for grass that needs mowing. I want to smell through my open windows the scent of fresh-cut, rich, beautiful, vibrant green grass that grows so quickly we can't keep up with it.

A signature of real spring.

No matter what the calendar says, its not quite here yet.

But...its getting there.