Saturday, March 13, 2010

Spring Forward

Really? I haven't written here since Tuesday? I'm so sorry, people. That is not like me!

Maybe it was because Julia got sick this week, and then Genevieve got sick, and then I got sick. (We all still are, really.)

And it rained all week. (Literally. It has rained every day, pretty much all day, since Monday, and is still doing so. When it's not actually raining, the fog is dripping off the trees like rain anyway. You would not believe the gloom here right now. You can practically feel your good-mood brain chemicals drying up.)

Somewhere in there, preschool was closed for a day (damn you, preschool! damn you!), and I went to Genevieve's parent-teacher conference, during which her beloved teacher told me that she's "a total delight" (ahem) and that she's fantastic about "taking care of her things and cleaning up after herself" (ahem). Hmmm. MUST BE NICE, PRESCHOOL TEACHER.

This week pretty much defined the word "unproductive." No running took place. No writing took place. Very little household cleaning took place. Much TV-watching, Internet-surfing, and lazing around took place, interspersed with coughing, sniffling, and sneezing. You get the idea.

However, a few highlights occurred: Julia learned how to tie. Genevieve independently wrote and gave me a book, the text of which reads: "Moms love their baby's. Moms love their Julia's and their Vivi's. And their Elmo's." (? I don't know where that last part came from. Also, the book was titled, inexplicably, "The Cat.") Since she's only three, I figured I'd overlook the indiscriminate use of apostrophes.

Also, the vast majority of our snow pack (at least two feet on the ground) melted seemingly overnight, turning what felt like eternal deep winter into, instantaneously, what feels like unfamiliar spring. The sidewalks and driveways and streets are all bare and wet. Grass is visible everywhere. All three of our yard's snowmen disintegrated like abandoned Popsicles. Our patio is a mess of mud, shrivelly carrots from snowmen's noses, once-buried plastic shovels and pails from months of playing in the snow, and wet bird's-nest detritus from the nest above our back door. If it ever dries up outside, we've got a major cleaning project to do.

I will leave you with the bit of wisdom Genevieve expressed last night in the car as I drove us to toddler tumbling:

Genevieve: Mama, it is hard to read a book to a cat.
Me: Is it?
Genevieve: Yes, because if you read a book to a cat, the cat just walks away!

So true. So, so true.

1 comment:

Mnmom said...

I love kids!
J once wrote a book that had pictures, with nouns written under them in preschool spelling. The title was "The Telling". I can't count how many books our girls put together.

Hope everyone is feeling better. This Minnesota gloom is maddening. Very Edgar Allan Poe out there!