Friday, February 28, 2014


I had a thought today as I was perusing Facebook and all of the reports of impending 6-10 inches of snow for the weekend. It's been a long winter. Like really long. This is our winter of '78. This is the "when I was kid" winter for our kids.

I realized that this winter reminds me so much of the ninth month of pregnancy. You can't wait for it to get there and then you can't wait until it's over. It's the longest month of your life. It's full of pain and uncomfortableness. It makes you want to sleep and eat all the time. It makes you grumpy. 

And then spring comes. Birth. And all of hardships of the last month seems to have disappear. New buds and babies and blue skies are here along with new challenges. Severe weather. Late frosts for the crops. Droughts. Sleepless nights. Fussy babies. And just a piece of you wants to go back and curl up in front of the fireplace - shut in and out from the world and having a million understandable excuses for not leaving the house. 

Time passes faster in the spring and you have a new fear of missing out. Missing firsts like rolling over, or new foods, missing blue sky days when you have to work, missing the thunder storms when they come at night and you can't watch them roll in and the skies change. You want to soak it all in because you know that soon it will be gone with the weighty heat of the summer humidity and we will all retreat to all cool homes for reprieve. 

Both seasons are important and anticipated. And both should be welcomed and enjoyed. And both need to pass. This weekend, I'm going to do my best to enjoy the (certainly?!) last snow of the year like I would the last rolls and pokes in my belly; knowing I'll be longing for it later. The glaring difference between winter and pregnancy is that winter is guaranteed to visit every year, unlike pregnancy which is guaranteed, thankfully, to not. That in itself is bittersweet. 

Here's to enjoying the season.

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