I’m Over Winter. . .

I’ve hit a bit of a slump.  The well of creativity has run dry and I find myself parched and thirsty for new ideas, fresh creativity, and well, a little excitement.  I’m pretty certain that it’s the weather that is getting to me.  Cloudy days, cold temperatures, snow, wind, ice, rain. . . Oh, Ohio.

This is the first year I can remember feeling this blah about winter.  So much so, that I’ve come up with a perfect solution to the problem and I’ve told anyone who will listen about it:  I’d like to move to Florida.

I told Chad last week, I think I could be okay in Florida. 
On Saturday I let my sister know. . . I’d be okay in Florida.
Later, I called my Dad and told him of my plan. . . I think Florida would be a nice place.

On Sunday I told Chad that when it gets warm again, I’m going to memorize the feeling of warmth.  I’m going to carry the feeling of spring and summer with me all year.  I find myself dreaming of lush green grass and the smell of blooming lilacs in our backyard.  I imagine the warmth of the golden sun touching my skin and sitting on the porch and watching little bodies splash through sprinklers.  I think about it so much I can almost hear the crickets chirping in the darkness of the night and the mourning doves wooing me awake in the morning. 

Spring is so close I can almost taste it. . . but we’re not there yet. 

Of course Florida isn’t the answer, but if I pretend it’s a possibility, it helps get through the day.  Call it denial, call it delusional. . . I call it survival.

It was late last week when I really noticed how sapped my creativity has become.  This scene was taking place one morning when Chanelle asked the question that I should have anticipated. 

Mommy, can we please, please, please paint Meadow again?  Charlie wasn’t here last time we did it and he needs to be able to do it, too.  Please, please, pleeeeeeease????? 

My resistance is at about zero. . .

. . . and to be honest, I’m completely out of any fresh ideas.

Here Sis, can you add some yellow?

I’m sure that someday I’ll hear about this from Meadow, but my current working theory is this:  whatever entertains them.

And that’s about it.  Whatever it takes to entertain them. 

For example, when Charlie wants to drum on the pans in the living room I say yes. . .

. . . not because I’m a super-cool-super-patient-mom, but because when they are entertained I’ve got a few moments to think, breathe and be. . .

I have the special power to completely block out the noise of these drums.  Seriously, I can’t hear them at all.

I think we’ve come to the point where books have been read and reread and read again.  Games have been played and over played.  Baking was more fun in December and our feet are ready to step into the outdoors.  So, it seems anything goes. . .

Letting a one year old play with glass dishes is fine and dandy until. . .

. . . the inevitable happens. 

We’ve played in the living room, basement, and bedrooms all winter long.  Those are boring. . .

. . . but the pantry is new.

And sometimes the dress up clothes are just more of the same.

But kitchen utensils always jazz up a look.

Girlfriend knows her style.

And when we’ve had just about all we can take of being indoors and a little voice calls out. . . Mama, there’s a puddle in Miss Nancy’s driveway can we please, please, pleeeeease go jump in it. . .

I ignore the 30 degree temperatures and the responsible side of me and say yes because fresh air makes everything better.

(Perhaps this is why Meadow is sick this week.) 

I guess what I’m trying to say is I am so over winter, which has led to a creativity, parenting, idea slump.  However, we have one more storm forecast and I’m determined to make the best of it.  If I don’t, I fear my children might end up playing in the heating duct. 

(Creative ways to entertain young children always welcome.)