The Spring That Never Was

The first of May and we still have snow in the yard. It was 26 degrees this morning. Even my crocuses remain hidden beneath the dirt.

Snow-pants, hats and gloves clutter the kitchen bench, and our shorts lay beneath the bed in storage boxes.

And yet the sun rose at 5:51 a.m. this morning and won't set till 10:05 p.m. 16 hours and 14 minutes of frigid daylight.

No wonder the kids all seem so off-kilter, cranky and frantic and jubilant all mixed together in a crazy-making stew. Both at home and at school, I feel like all I do is respond to misguided behaviors.

Last night after a racus floor hockey game in our kitchen, using empty cream cheese and sour-cream containers as our pucks, the transition to bedtime was anything but smooth.

The light messes with our minds.

As the sun poured in the window, Elias swung his arms at me, "I don't want to ever go to bed!"

Olive, playing the "good kid" role, to counterbalance her brother's antics, ran to her room to put on her pajamas. He chased after her crying, "I don't want to go to bed!"

After some pushing and pulling at her door, I grabbed him in my arms and held him in my lap on the floor. He finally relaxed his body into mine and rubbed his eyes. "I'm not tired!"

Right. None of us are tired. We are not tired of temper tantrums. Not tired of tricking you into going to bed each not. Not tired of the unpredictability of your frustrations and rage.

Not tired of frozen ground and snowflakes falling.

Not tired at all.

Nope, not me.

Comments

[Greta]

We woke up to several inches of new snow and freezing temps. I try to accept it, in anticipation of a brilliant summer with perhaps fewer wildfires due to this late booming snowpack, but truthfully I miss the springs of memory.

Looking to the tulips, crocuses and daffodils for inspiration. :)