After a rather grey December, I’m pleasantly surprised to find that I’m having a simply delightful January. I am normally not a fan of winter. January and February…and March…and April…always seem to drag on forever, with me feeling like a prisoner in my own house. But somehow, this January has been cheery and bright. I feel like I’m (mostly) on top of things, the kids have been (mostly) very good, and I’m…
Strange, I know.
All three kids have a strange quirk right now that is (mostly) quite charming. The Captain is working on becoming the perfect ninja, capable of sneaking up on anyone and scaring the bejeezus out of them. If he sees me reading on the couch, he’ll get up and loudly announce that he’s “JUST GOING TO THE BATHROOM,” then he’ll creep around to the back of the sofa oh-so-quiet-like, and yell “BOO” in my ear. The first time he did this, I jumped about 10 feet in the air, thus cementing his commitment to try it again every day for the next year or so. Totally hilarious the first 500 times. Starting to get a wee bit old now, but I’m still chipper about it.
Gal Smiley learned a few weeks ago while skating that you can put one pair of socks over another pair. She thinks this concept is brilliant. She started coming home from school and putting on a second pair of socks over the ones she had been wearing. Then she upped it to three, and now she’s up to wearing four pairs of socks on a regular basis. She looks like she has giant elephant feet, not to mention the fact that she’s running through the entire contents of her sock drawer every three days. But still the cuteness is there.
Meanwhile, Little Miss Sunshine has decided to sing her way through life. Every request for juice or a snack is sung: “I woooould liiiiike…a snaaaaaack….” Her biggest hit is in heavy rotation around here, entitled, “Cheer Up.” It goes, “Cheeeeer up Mommy….cheeeer up Daddy…cheeeeeer up everyone I know in the wooooooorld…” All sung completely tunelessly. She then finishs off with a pat on the head; her siblings do that to her so often that she’s interpreted it as a universal way to show love. No wonder I’m in such a good mood – the song demands it.
Sir Monkeypants and I spent all day Sunday cleaning out our basement. I think we had every box for every piece of electronics we had ever purchased down there. Sir Monkeypants spent hours breaking down boxes, while I sorted through the toy graveyard down there and bagged up a bunch of baby stuff to go to Boomerang or charity.
One thing we decided to sell, finally, was our running stroller. It’s a Zooper Buddy, which is a really good model, but it’s meant for very small babies and even the Little Miss does not fit comfortably in it anymore. I listed it online for sale on Sunday evening, and by Monday we had a buyer all ready to go.
Sir Monkeypants brought the stroller up and got it ready by the front door, and then, unexpectedly, the Captain burst into tears. He is really attached to stuff and has trouble with change, and he just did not want to let the stroller go. I comforted him by telling him all about the new family that would be able to use it for their new baby, and by telling him we would do something fun as a family with the money.
Eventually he stopped crying but he asked me if I would take his picture with the stroller so he would always remember it. I agreed to humour him, but as I looked through the camera lens at the two of them standing together, I got a lump in my throat myself. I was never that attached to the stroller, but seeing the small space for a baby compared to my giant seven-year-old boy…my my, how time has flown. I won’t miss the stroller, but I sometimes miss my babies.
It’s strange how you can feel so content in life, and yet still yearn for things past. How happy and sad can blend together into bittersweet. Just for one moment there, I felt the pull of the same old January.
But today it’s going to be snowing, and we’re going skating, and I have a meeting at the preschool that will involve many Snickerdoodles. I love my seven-year-old, and my six-year-old, and my three-year-old. Winter, you ain’t got nothing on me.