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Monday, March 25, 2013

if we are dying eggs it must be spring, right?

A few days shy of the spring equinox Maya threw a tantrum about not being permitted to wear her flip flops outside.  She just couldn't wrap her head around what March in Maine means and why the interminable winter has not yet given up its grasp over this northern corner of the world. 

I said, "It is just too cold, honey.  We still have to have a fire in the stove everyday, mittens on our hands and winter coats."  She came back with a wailing. "But WHEN will winter be over?  It has been SO LONG and it should be spring!"

How can you argue with that?

All I know is that at 4:45 am on the "first day of spring" I was digging our cars out from 10 inches of snow so that Sandi could get to the hospital.  I don't usually begrudge thing that are so clearly out of my control and have cultivated a more accepting, get-on-board-with-what-is mentality, but that morning I was shaking my fist at the sky. 

Our patio had just become bare for Pete's sake.  I was planning a party in my head.

But spring doesn't really come to Maine until at least April, and if we are unlucky even May.  However, Easter with all its sleeveless dresses and open-toed shoes, often comes in March.   Poor planning there.  Again with the conversation and ensuing tantrums over footwear when you have daughters. 

It may not be spring yet, but it was time for the annual dying of Easter eggs with the Smith's.  (The whole time I was thinking about the older kids, please still like this next year...please don't let this be our last year.)

Beckett (who someone just performed a magic trick and turned two) is in the stage of the scrunched up nose. I love it.
Let's just say a smock is a very good thing for Maya.

Between dying and decorating, the girls ended up in leotards.  You just never know at our house. 


Beckett wanted to know what would happen when he put his finger in the spinning fan.  Hopefully he doesn't try to replicate this experiment at home.

As usual, an impromptu kid parade rounded out the afternoon (although this time it was absent of the random German music CD the kids usually find to play) and the adults enjoyed hanging out and eating supper.  This was the first time Beckett went in the living room and played with the older kids instead of velcroing himself to Matt or Ange.  It was almost like the four of us were out on our own having normal conversation.  Well except for the 100 decibel screeches of delight coming from the crowd in the living room.

Okay, I know it is only March but I am pining to ride my bike and I just want to sit outside and read a book.  I want to sleep with my window open and smell lilacs on the night air.  Honestly, if it could just stop snowing I would be good with that right now.

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