Spring has arrived, technically. But where I live, it seems the calendar is always a bit ahead of nature. Since I’ve come to realize I can’t count on crocuses and leaf buds to align themselves with the seasonal guidelines of my calendar, I’ve discovered a few other harbingers of spring:
- I shaved my legs.
- My husband clipped his toe nails.
- There are 42 loads of laundry to do in the basement because I have to switch out winter clothes and prep the spring clothes.
- The weather forecast is more of a guess on the part of the meteorologists, and resembles the image below.
- I forget to have Punkin do her homework because I’m so excited that the kids can play outside, I send them straight out when Punkin gets home from school. They briefly return to their shelter for dinner, and then I ship them back out the door. Sorry, homework. I’ve been waiting 6 months for this.
- My house doesn’t smell like bolognese sauce/dirty diapers in the garbage/the lotion Goo spilled on the floor/ because I can finally open the windows.
- We eat everything grilled. All the time. Because Daddy handles the grill, and I handle the not cooking.
- My house is cleanish. That way I can open the doors and windows and not care if people see in.
- My car is clean. Even on the inside.
- I sink into a severe depression because I know what is looming just around the corner… Bathing. Suit. Season.
- Punkin gets on the bus in a winter coat and hat, and gets off the bus in the afternoon wearing a tank top and flip flops. Because in the morning, it’s 30 degrees, and in the afternoon, it’s 75.
- My hands are freezing because I refuse to wear a winter coat or gloves in April. Refuse.
Here’s hoping the snow days are over, the warm breezes start blowing, and the laundry does itself.