I mean. Yesterday was like -30 and this morning was hella cold, but this afternoon! So warm! We walked home from Eleanor's dance class and our shadows were like HELLO IT IS SO SUNNY LOOK HOW LONG WE ARE.
We went to the park like every evening last week.
Joel was gone and we were feeling antsy and shiftless and mourning Cuba a little bit.
I feel like previous hot holidays have tided (tode?) me over, given me a little shot of warm to get me through whatever's left of winter. But I dunno. I just want to start putting my kids in short pants and flat shoes. I HATE MY BOOTS SO MUCH I COULD DIE.
Being in Cuba, having my kids running around with their little knees hanging out, their soft shoulders. There's something so intensely satisfying about your child's body, the shape of it and the way it moves and the way it holds still, and that's something I miss in the winter when everyone is clothed to the eyeballs. This grumpiness feels ungrateful in the face of the weather we've been having, and we are so grateful.
It's rainsuit season like half the time!
Stomp them puddles!
You do you, Geneva.
Gotta shovel dat sidewalk.
We walked to the farmer's market last Sunday! You can only do that if you're sure you're not gonna die, because it's like an hour walk.
The walk home is always dangerous because Geneva gets dozy, so I bought the girls a couple of flautas to keep them awake because I am a wizard of foresight.
It is supposed to be positive degrees this weekend. Everything is gonna melt, there're gonna be so many puddles, I'm so delighted.
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