The promise of spring

Thank you for all of your comments the other day. Isn't it great to know that other people's children do the same thing? My gosh. That entire day was pretty funny though, in retrospect. Oh, the healing power of laughter.

Yesterday was surprisingly warm and sunny (I think it was in the 50's), so we took a walk to the nearest playground. This was our first walk all together on our own since Jonah was born.



I had to stop to take a look at them all before we left. Hey! I have a lot of kids! (Am I old enough to have that many?! I'm pretty sure I'm only 19 or 20-ish...)



As is always the case with small children, our walk was slow and peppered with stops to look at things, but if it had not been for the boys, I would never have been able to notice these beautiful Snowdrops (?) blooming:






Or this brilliantly green patch of grass:


(Elijah has been perfecting his "candid photo" face -- Greg does the same thing. I'll be waiting for the face to change to some more attractive expression, and all the while, they've frozen in the oddest "caught at a bad time" look on purpose. Terrible. My question: how does a 3-year-old come up with this?)

There is nothing like spring; to me, no other season can compare to the joy of newness and growing, brand new tender plants poking through previously frozen soil. The air smells different at this time of year, fresh and clear.



By the time we'd reached the playground (took us about 30 minutes even though it would take an adult 15 minutes at most), they were so warm that they took their jackets off to run around. They got cold after a bit, but the promise of spring is definitely in the air.



I felt like my brain was rinsed clean, and it was so good for the children to be able to run free.






Before anyone mentions it -- no, I didn't think Lavella was big enough for this slide. However, I was trapped on a bench nursing Jonah, rendered powerless. Suddenly she was at the top...and then sliding down.



Her comment: "That was funny!" Yeah, little girl, very funny. This was repeated about a hundred times. Apparently, she's big enough.



Seriously though look at her face. Try telling that little person to stop doing anything. It takes guts to resist her, I tell you.



This is generally considered bad playground etiquette, so I was glad that we were the only ones there that day; it's the boys' favorite way to get to the top.






All was not roses of course -- there was a minor incident which involved Lavella making a dash through the gate for the road and being virtually tackled by Elijah. Although he probably saved her life, the blood curdling screams she offered up to the neighbors probably suggested otherwise. When we got home, she created another scene in the stairwell that is best not remembered, but suffice to say it brought out more than one of the neighbors, one of whom thankfully scooped her up and just carried her up, no questions asked.

After this week of varied struggles and joy, I began to wonder: what would the brilliant, gorgeous moments be without the bitter? Without the struggles of toddler wrangling, and preschool rebellion, and moments where I'm Pretty Sure I Might Just Die Right Here, how sweet would the lovely moments really be? In the end, I have four beautiful, healthy and strong children that I love more than my own life. Even on the worst of days, I have it pretty good. I am blessed beyond anything that I could hope to deserve.

With my head full of these musings, today has been a day for spinning.



When I want to quiet my mind and just be, feeling the tug and spring of wool passing through my fingers is a perfect pastime.



This isn't related to anything, but here's a picture of a sweater that I've just finished this week (posting this especially for my mom):



I was knitting it when she and Rachel were here. For those of you who can't get enough pictures (!!), you can go here for more.