Spring Fever Has Set In

We were teased by the weather last week. Two 50+ degree days in a row had us outside taking long walks. We breathed fresh air. We laughed. And then Mother Nature laughed back at us. Should have seen that one coming but, still, it was a sad realization that winter is not over.

I put this quote in my planner just yesterday:

“It’s spring fever… you don’t quite know what it is you DO want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so.” – Mark Twain

I just want to be outside. Out from behind these walls. And other walls. I want fresh air. And leaves on trees. And something other than the clothes we’ve been looking at for months on end. I know, I know. I’m the winter lover among us all. I rave about the snow. And I do love it and I do love winter.

But I like who I am as a mother better when we can all go outside and take a breather.

I run out of ideas when stuck inside for long periods of time. And when I run out of ideas, I run out of patience. Add in some of my health issues as of late and I haven’t been the most patient, calm or quiet of mothers in the past month or so. And I’ve put in the effort. I’ve purchased new crafting things. I’ve bought new books. I’ve ventured to let BigBrother spend some time “gaming” with me on the Wii. We’re throwing things like the library into our regular schedule.

But I need to talk daily walks. I need to show BigBrother plants and flowers and leaves growing. I need to hear LittleBrother’s vocabulary explode as he discovers new things. (In fact, with the back door open today, he said, “Side,” the same way his older brother used to say outside back in the day. FireDad and I melted.) I need to take a book outside and read. Drink some iced tea. Feel the sun on my cheeks. Stop wearing bulky coats that make it difficult to get everyone in and out of the house.

I need Spring to arrive.

But by seasons, we still have just over a month before the word actually applies. And we all know that it can snow on the last day of April. But I’m still holding out hope. Surely there must be an end in sight? Soon the birds will sing and I’ll complain about the heat, right?

Right?