On the last day of school before March Break, I met my older kids at the end of the lane way to welcome them off the bus. Winter is beginning to relinquish her hold on March, and I laughed as the kids squelched through the patches of mud unveiled by the day's sunshine. "Take a picture, mom!" they kept calling, as they climbed onto then leapt off of mounds of snow left by the plow, backpacks sailing behind them, snow pants damp and droopy after a day of recesses in a soggy school yard.
We came in and shed our boots, put the lunchbags on the counter, and banished their back packs to the summer kitchen for the week. Violet leaned over my shoulder and asked for a picture. Again, I remind myself to include myself in photos with my children for the days when their childhood is a distant and vague memory (even when I've wrapped a knitted scarf around my head to conceal my chronic bed-head).
The past weeks have been stressful in many ways. Norah has started making strange, and wants to be held and carried all day. She is increasingly reluctant to nap on our bed, and my back and neck are feeling the effects of lugging Her Royal Sweetness around all day in a sling or a wrap. My older girls are reacting to my limited ability to play and craft with them by fighting a lot, and testing my patience in various ways. It is hard to follow through on requests and instructions when I'm planted in a chair with a baby at my breast for much of the day!
Luckily, my husband will be home for the week and we have some fun plans: skiing/snowboarding, some one-on-one outings with Daddy, library activities (think candy sushi, a fairy tea party, and all-day Lego!) a visit from their cousins and a St. Patrick's Day party later in the week. I'm hoping a trip to a sugar bush is in the cards, as well. This will be our first full week together since Norah was born at Christmas time, and we hope to glue this family more tightly together as we continue to adapt to new patterns and expectations.
This space will be quiet this week, in celebration of March Break. Perhaps when I return, Spring will truly be unfurling before our eyes. One can hope!