Kristine: Spring Blues
It’s beginning to look and feel a lot like spring around here. The temperature hit close to 70 degrees, and for the first time since last year, I had the windows open. The fresh air circulated throughout the rooms, giving my stale house a fresh, earthy scent. I abandoned my usual turtleneck and sweats for a T-shirt and lighter stretch pants. My daughter romped around the house in actual clothes as opposed to her winter sleepers. The warm weather felt wonderful, especially for the hour we got to go outside and enjoy it.
Okay, so here’s my confession. I’m not ready for spring yet, and I’m going into all of this with a lot of trepidation. Yes, it was a long, cold, snowy winter. Yes, we had more ice storms and record snow amounts than I remember experiencing in a few years. And yes, there was that one night in February when I cursed the winter months because I had to navigate on poorly treated, ice-covered roads—again—to get to the grocery store.
But I’m still a little bummed out that the season is over. Maybe it’s my personality. I’m very much a homebody who loves snuggling in my warm fleece clothes with a hot cup of tea on a cold night, preferably with a good book. It’s also probably the writer in me. I’d much rather work on cloudy, rainy days than on hot, sunny ones. I love snow unless I have to drive in it. The ice, however, I can do without, thank you very much.
When I became a mom 15 months ago, these feelings only intensified, and I realize now that it’s not so much my avoidance of the warm weather fueling these negative feelings than my reluctance to let go of my little daughter, the fear of her growing up too fast. With each passing season, she gets older and that much closer to leaving the nest. That breaks my heart.
A December baby gave me permission to hibernate with my newborn daughter for a few months. We stayed in our pajamas all day (probably because I was trying to get sleep anywhere and anytime I could and couldn’t give up precious sleep time even getting dressed) and didn’t have to go anywhere except the pediatrician or the grocery store. I loved that cherished, focused time with my daughter. I had that time with her again this year, but I know I’ve only got maybe another year or two left before it all disappears.
So while most people are busting open the doors to cure cabin fever, I’m hoping to close the door to my cabin for a little while longer.