It's been a shut-in kind of week. First the blizzard kept us all at home for a day, then it was too cold to do much of anything outside for more than a few minutes, and today I'm home with a mildly sick kid, so now playing out in the snow isn't an option at all, even for a few minutes. Except for teaching one piano lesson last night (which was supposed to be Tuesday, but I postponed because of the weather), I haven't ventured farther out of the house than across the street in about three days.
I have to admit that my enthusiasm for winter is starting to dwindle just the tiniest bit. I think it started a day or two ago when Daniel said he wants to plant an apple seed in the front yard so we can grow apples there. (I tried, once, to explain that apple trees don't really grow from seeds, but from cuttings, and that it would be a long time before a new tree would actually produce anything edible...but I think he stopped listening early on in the explanation.) He's also expressed desire in growing pumpkins in the front yard. I'm not sure which is less likely to happen (Stuart would probably refuse to mow around a pumpkin vine), but when I look out the window and think just how much snow has to melt before we even see the dirt, much less plant something in it, I emit a sigh. Just a little sigh is all, because the snow is still fun to wade through and play in and sled down, and it sure helps my mood that daylight lingers now until after 5:00pm.
But I'm growing weary of spending 15 minutes putting on snow pants and finding everyone's neckwarmers and mittens every time we leave the house. I've worn the same boots nearly every day since mid-December, and I'm starting to daydream about wearing flip-flops. I long to go running during the week, not just on Saturdays and Sundays (it's too cold and/or dark before and after Stuart is at work Mon-Fri). I have forgotten what it smells like when it rains. I want to go on a picnic and take the kids to the zoo. I want to wake up with the sun, instead of before.
Not to get too precious about it (because y'all know I hate this kind of sentimental statement), but I'm trying to appreciate the time I have with the kids this winter. Daniel turns 5 on Monday (!) (sniff...), which means he'll be in Kindergarten next year, and we won't have all this time together during the week to explore the great outdoors. Anya's just this year been hardy enough in the cold and steady enough on her feet in snow boots to stay outside for any length of time, so really, this has been our year for sledding and skating and digging, and generally embracing winter for what it is.