Good to get out again

The whole family went for a long walk after dinner last night.  It was delightful.  This week has officially opened its arms to spring, and the season has obliged by providing at least a hint of the pleasant weather to come.  It was sunny, no hint of wind, and teasingly warm.  Several degrees above freezing, so of course I wore shorts.

Before we left the house Amy was sure to put on her sunglasses.  I'm not convinced it had nothing to do with my wearing shorts.  I wouldn't go so far as to say I'm pasty after a winter cooped up indoors and swaddled in layers of insulating cotton, fleece, and synthetic flammable materials, but the angle of the evening sun glancing off a shin moistened by spring melt water kicked up by churning dog paws could pose a danger to casual passers by.

In an oral parody of the season, Tavish's mouth is making like a budding tree and sprouting new growth too.  He cut his first eye tooth this week, giving him five so far.  His contagious grin is made more so by his increasingly prominent two front teeth with the gap between them.  When combined with both his arms straining mightily up at a father just returned from a day at the office, he presents an irresistible lure.  I'm hooked.

I love spring for the promise of more pleasant weather, but I've never been a fan of March and April.  They are easily the dirtiest months of the year.  The melting snow sloughs away to reveal the layers of dirt accumulated over the past five or six months, a new one sprinkled after each major snow fall to give traction on the icy roads.  The roads themselves now riddled with potholes, forcing drivers to bob and weave around traps lying in wait for unwary suspensions.  The figure I heard on the radio earlier this week was something in excess of 125,000 potholes to be filled this spring.  It's rare times like this I silently curse the aberrant behaviour of ice.

Declan is showing signs of leaving his infancy well and truly in his past.  When I talk to him it stuns me to realise I just had a conversation with my son.  He's an incredibly lucid little man.  It's almost unnerving.  He's not even three yet.  He'll announce to the house that he has to go pee, and then shun all offers of help - warning hand upraised - as he saunters into the bathroom and strips from the waist down before clambering onto the toilet and going about his business.  No potty for this boy; no sir!

He also frequently insists on completely dressing himself for bed.  He only wears Pull-Ups to bed now.  (He's a tighty-whitey boy by day.)  He climbs into those and then his pants, always his left foot first for each.  He pulls on his pyjama shirt and finds the arm holes with practised ease.  My favourite part comes at the last when he smooths both hands down the front of his belly several times, looks up from his effort with a huge, toothy grin, jumps up and down, claps, and quietly proclaims, "I did it!" before launching himself at me for a hug.

Amy got very nearly as excited as that last night too.  Only it happened during the boys' bath when she realised, with just about an hour to air time, that Thursday was Ugly Betty night!  She almost forgot!  I'm well advised never to trigger conversation unless it's during commercial breaks for no more than two minutes.  Plus?  She's going to start up a blog next week.  Will wonders never cease?!

Comments

[Émilie B.]

What a heartwarming little post... Congratulations to Tavish for his new biters. I'm sure he'll make good use of them. And wishes for a clement spring and sunny summer to us all.

[Paul]

Amy's going to start a blog? Gee, I'm almost frightened of the public interactions between the two of you that could occur. If I ever announce that Pat's going to start a blog, it's time to make your peace with your God, because it'll be two minutes to armageddon.

[Moksha Gren]

Thank you, Si...you've rejuvinated my soul for this last push for the weekend. Such wonderful news all around from Edmonton. Spring, new teeth, fashion accomplishments, Ugly Betty, and the possibility of getting to know Amy from the primary source. These next 8 hours hold no barrier for me...for my heart is lightened!

[Alec]

Moksha, which has the potential to be more interesting? Learning about Amy from the primary source or about Simon secondhand?

(The man's so damn reticent, after all.)
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Them's a whole lot of potholes. It seems unfair that those that live in warmer climes both have more time for construction and less need for it.

[Simon]

Émilie, I could use a sunny summer after the long winter we've had here. Unrelenting snow since October. I'm ready for grass.

Paul, your wife would probably have more sense than to use AOL too. (Oh man, BURN!!)

Moksha, any heart-lightening I can help with helps my own do the same. It's symbiotic relationship.

Alec, I'll try to be more forthcoming. And now that you mention it, second-hand Simon sort of scares me. Your construction dichotomy was wonderfully succinct.

[Mark]

Sorry I let this post slip past my radar.

That's a LOT of potholes. I wonder how many wrecks are caused by folks swerving to avoid a particularly nasty hollow.

From my days of riding my bicycle, I habitually raise my bottom off my car seat when I know I'm going to hit a pothole. Doesn't help the poor car, but at least I don't feel exactly how bad it was.

Yay for Tav's teeth and Dex's (verbal) dexterity!

Amy's going to start a blog? Excellent. Now we get the female take on the Simian Farmer and his purports.

[wil]

It seemed like all 125,000 potholes were in the gravel road to camp this afternoon. After bouncing and jarring my way down the half-mile long maintained section I came to a screeching stop when it became obvious the driveway into the camp STILL retained enough snow and ice to defeat the clearance of the underbelly of the Saturn. Dang!

Sounds like Spring has sprung in your neck of the North Country. We're in Mud Season, for sure.

Looking forward to hearing things from your better half's perspective -- fair and balanced reporting, don'tcha know?