Sunday, March 14, 2010
If I were 10, instead of almost 33, I am pretty sure I would have been skipping around all day long. Even if it snows, even if ceases to get above freezing some day, the end is near. Spring has all but arrived.
Cabin fever does odd things to people. It makes adults stew in their discontent. It makes dogs ask to be let out just to smell the one wee patch of lawn exposed in the snow. It turns the almost three year old in to a two year old version of an insufferable teenager. It is good for no one.
Yesterday, even though the sun promised last Monday did not show, and the temperature was only 40, we went out for a walk. Just to two of us. Mother, daughter, and my camera. It was overcast, but bright in a way that doesn't happen when it is overcast in January.
It wasn't the three miles that I managed to easily do last weekend. It wasn't the pace that I would have liked, but we did it. She smiled, she laughed, she didn't listen, she thought she had lost her pink bracelet, she found it after we turned around to go home, but she did it.
Afterward, we went to dinner, where the food was late, and she was hungry, but she behaved better than she had in a long time. So did I.
Spring is almost here. Today it was well over 60 and we did it again. We went for a walk, without our vests, in the bright sun and blue skies. This time we took the dog, and she went slow, and I had to chase her home, but we did it. We still had time outs at home, and frustrations, but that is just being two, going on thirteen. We grilled dinner. We cleaned up after a winter of a dog using the back yard as their commode. We all felt better.
The dog is no longer going crazy, she's passed out on the couch. I am no longer going crazy. I'm happily doing my housework, listening to my daughter snore in the room next door.