Signs of Spring

While preparing our evening meal of pasta with cheese sauce (from scratch, mind you) and salad, I happened to look out the west kitchen window and saw a flock of robins plucking their dinners from the earth. Robins are migratory birds, and this is the first I have seen of them since fall, which is good news indeed. As the clumps of snow are melting from the unseasonably warm temperatures we had last week and now again today, some tulip bulbs are poking up along the south side of my house in the narrow bed beneath the boys' bedroom windows. The Stuntman saw and squished a bug at the park today, and I found an ant in paradise on my kitchen floor amidst all of Prettiness' crumbs below her highchair. Regardless of what that groundhog saw, it is coming, and I am so ready for it. I had forgotten how pleasant it is to let the boys play outside in the fresh air and sunshine, how tired they get afterward and how they sometimes still need naps. Today they both slept for roughly two hours after our excursion to Meadowood park. After such long naps, The Artist was much revived, and had lots to say at table tonight about mucous and snot, and exoskeletons and insects, and he even had a second portion of pasta and salad. The Stuntman was still a bit groggy, but was able to contribute a little to the conversation about shark pee and dinosaur poo-poo. Ahhh, the wonderment of boys.

There is nothing like a little Spring-ish air to awake the body, soul and mind.