It’s hard to believe it’s the end of February already. The month started out wet and gloomy after a warm, last Sunday of January. Daniel was away for the first few days of that month, and the rest of it has seemed a blur. We knew we had some scheduled extras to the first of our year, so in some ways I feel like the new year–at least the new beginnings part of it–is just starting.
I watched my little girl turn 3 years old, spreading our celebrations out while her favorite person, her daddy, was away on the official day of her birthday. As the cards trickled in, she formed a collection under her pillow, and still reads them every night. Any, and every card that comes in she puts there and pulls out, sometimes at night before bed and sometimes randomly to read. And I’m reminded how different we are, and yet how alike. How the little things are important to her that may not be so important to me; I’m learning so much just from watching her treasure these things.
Weeks pass, and we try to catch up after a crazy January. We were hit by the stomach bug…everyone but me. Nights of being drenched in my child’s puke. Grace by day, grace by night. We’d only been sick once, in November, since the late summer. I guess our time was coming, and I am thankful we’d avoided sickness for so long. The intensity of it seemed to quite make up for our lack.
And now, it seems like we’ve been in the dog days of February. They call the hottest days of summer “the dog days of summer.” So can I call these the dog days of February? Or maybe the Groundhog Days of February. At any rate, it’s been warm the last week, even for South Carolina, and the girls and I have spent most of our days outside, either at the park down the street or downtown. Oh how they love downtown!
Eden’s distaste for her carseat has miraculously faded in away in the past month, and now she rushes at any opportunity to go outdoors, whether walking, in the stroller, or in her carseat. It makes a huge difference when your baby likes to travel! (Well, short distances so far…we’ll see on the long distances.)
Last night Eden and I took a walk. I was amazed as I realized the shock I had at the warm February temps had transformed quickly into shock that it was already March. March? Really? So now it’s March, but it’s certainly not coming in like a lion–not this year. This year, March’s entrance is more lamb-like. No wall calendar reminds me, but we walked past the bushes erupting with tiny yellow buds, trying to give the impression that they are somehow distantly related to the burning bush Moses saw in the wilderness. We walked for almost an hour, Eden quietly taking it in. I took it all in, too: the smells, the sights, the sounds, the reminders that the springtime is at the door, ready to pounce in on us. On our final leg, I passed under an electric line that ran along the length of the sidewalk. A hawk flew overhead, carrying a small rodent (at least that’s my guess) in it’s mouth, and landed on the wire momentarily. As it flew away, I walked under where it had been and it appeared as if I were walking into a tunnel snowing down tiny hawk feathers. Life suddenly seemed to go in slow motion. I backed out of the feather-shower, paused, and was on my way again. But it was a reminder. A reminder that life does not go in slow motion, but there are tiny little moments that every so often seem to. And now, it’s another day. The feathers are gone…the vapor of my life is quickly hurdling forth.