The crab apple tree just outside the bay window is so covered in fat, pink blossoms that it is nearly vulgar - no tree should be so ostentatious. The frogs have returned to our pond, but have yet to be joined by the mosquitoes. Both children are
locked in their rooms finally done screaming sleeping peacefully, and I have decided to forgo my naptime date with the treadmill in favor of a pile of M&Ms and maybe some weeding. My nose is slightly pink from spending the past two mornings chasing a pile of kids around local playgrounds and farms and finally giving up and buying them all ice cream so they would sit still for five minutes and give their moms a break. Next week, we hit the zoo. They have ice cream there too.
Mia has developed a terror of all bugs, most especially the carpenter bees in our back yard. I have nearly convinced her that a hat will protect her, but she is still likely to stop in the middle of the back yard, clutch her outgrown sun hat to her head, and scream until I agree to rescue her from the ant she spied climbing a tree ten yards away. The best distractions are her giraffe-print gardening gloves, rake and shovel (her "tools"), which she has used to dig hundreds of holes in my flower beds in the past week. We consider it aerating the soil. She loves to help with the weeding too, although tends to uproot daffodils and azaleas rather than dandelions.
Owen giggles and coos and smiles and is happiest lying in a sunbeam without benefit of pants. He was thrilled to discover his naked toes buried in our far too long grass. He bounces around town with us tucked far into the Moby wrap, emerging only to nurse or be briefly startled by an especially loud cow or angry duck. He grumpily turns his face from the too-bright sun, but turns it into the breeze whenever he can.
One of the things my children have given me is the opportunity to enjoy Spring.