I love the changing seasons, I think I notice them so much more now I have a child. The impact of the weather on attire and attitude (despite my best efforts, my two and a half year old currently takes after his rain-fearing father) is magnified with a little one in tow. And while autumn and dear winter have their many charms, spring has become a particular favourite of mine over the years. It offers so much in the way of tingly, summery hope…colour comes into the gardens, like magic the leaves start to turn green, and the daylight – the much-missed daylight – keeps us company from early morning to well past dinner time.
There’s so much going on and so much to look forward to and so, in lieu of actually finishing any of my fabulously unfinished draft posts, I thought I’d note down some of the spring happenings in my world.
Yes it’s time to empty out the pockets from my winter coats, optimistically tuck them away in an obscure cupboard in the porch somewhere, dig out the lighter numbers, freeze, then reinstate the Winter coats for a few more months.
Hibernate my ‘autumn boots’ as my son calls them. Less snuggly, less practical ankle boots survive the spring cut but rarely get worn because their innocuous little heel and soft suede outer shell are not compatible with either the wobbly bridge or the muddy puddle at the bottom of the fireman’s pole.
Realise that all my flats apart from my boots are worn through, tatty, or have disappeared to a charity shop. Dust down the, now out of season, autumn boots for a few more weeks until I can drag myself round the shoe shops without having to drag round a small boy as well.
Revel in the end of the daily clothes battles with my son. He can wear bugger all from now on if he wishes. And, no, the middle of December is not a good time to develop a trouser and coat aversion…just a hint in case you were thinking of it.
Perfect my rain dance for the first few games of the cricket season. Ok, a bit churlish I’ll admit…and I’m sorry any rain haters or cricket lovers out there…but the cricket season is long, cricket games are long. I’m tired, pregnant, vomitty and both my son and I would like to see my husband for more than five minutes every few weeks. I’ll compromise and aim for very localised downpours.
On the subject of weather, I’ll watch it…scour the long range forecasts, follow the charts and put strategies in place if it’s going to be a hot summer. My son was born in a heatwave, it was an unbearable end to my pregnancy. After the last two dreary summers I shall be writing a letter to someone (can we still blame Michael Fish for everything?) if this one is the blazing sunpot of people’s dreams.
Wave goodbye to my little preschooler. Yep my toddler boy is officially a preschooler and for three hours once a week come May he will be causing havoc, and learning how to make more havoc, as a little nut or sprout or seedling or something.
Get a window cleaner round. The sun comes in and we can’t see out. There are many times I’m glad my mum doesn’t read my blog and this is one of them. Shameful.
Blossom snow showers in the garden. Hours of fun for a few precious days while the winds blow the petals down. Winner is the one who catches the most…I’m fully anticipating a(nother) sweeping victory for me as my son still hasn’t learnt to catch in the last twelve months…pahahaaa!
Choose some seeds and get my son’s garden set up. Bask in the serenity of teaching about the miracle of new life and sustainability. Lose all pretence of serenity as I desperately try to stop philistine son digging up his garden. Everyday. Eventually make a digging garden and growing garden then wait, wait, wait. Forget to water then sporadically remember and drown seedlings. Wait a bit more, harvest, then face up to the inevitable rejection of vegetables when I serve them for tea one optimistic day in August.
Birthday planning. We all have spring and summer birthdays here and, while I like my birthday, my favourite birthdays are those of my husband and son. My husband will be getting this amazing sounding cake from Art and Soul. Well from me…unless Claire’s branched into delivery services!? And my son will get one that I hope will look almost as good as the one I made for his second birthday…indulge me, I’m still so proud!
Big Ben visit. Oh yes, as the above cake suggests, my son loves clocks and can there be any more iconic or exciting clock in this country for a two and a half year old horologist? We’re going to have a lovely, ok probably quite stressful, spring day in London where my son can live the dream of doing his Big Ben impression to Big Ben as Big Ben does its own impression of itself.
Fun times afoot.
Wishing you all happy springs, showers and all!