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Sometimes I just marvel at the color of Alexis' hair. Isn't it gorgeous?
Anyway, that's not what I was going to talk about. The winter blues have set in. BIG TIME. That's what I was going to talk about. I really hate January. Like, really, really, really, with a
passion. I've been looking at the January calendar hanging on my wall, and it seems so
big. Why does it have to have 31 days in it? And the really unfair part is that this year there are 5 Sundays in January! That is a long month. Don't try and tell me that it's just as long as July, because I know it's not true. There are only 4 Sundays in July this year, so there--I think I've proved my point. And that is, that January is worth hating.
Friday was a bad day. A no-good, very bad day. A day that made me cry. And Jeremy said "What do you need?"* And I said, "I don't know, I don't know what's wrong with me." And he said, "You are pregnant and it's the winter". He gets it. Well, I don't know if he
gets it, but he pretends like he does and he knows it's coming. My soul needs the sunshine and the warmth. I dream about summer daily, which is really not helping my cause. I dream about days when I can do this:
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(Can you tell I'm pregnant in this picture? With the T-man.)
or this:
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(Can you tell she's rolling down a hill? A sequence of pictures would be helpful.)
or this:
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(Can you tell we're roasting hot dogs in the canyon?)
and we can't forget about this:
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(I think I talk enough about this that you can tell what he's doing)
We do summer right, let me tell you. But I have not figured out how to do winter right.
Anyway, Friday was the kind of day where I could just not get past myself. Myself was preventing me from doing anything productive. I had bread to make. I had laundry to fold. I had kids to play with. But I couldn't do any of it. When the winter blues hit me I don't get all depressed like,
"Oh man, my life sucks. I hate everything, woe is me." Nope, I'm not the negative thoughts type. I'm more the blob type. That means I pick a spot and sit there, blob like, thinking about all the things I should do. Eventually something compels me to move, usually a child, and then 2 minutes later I pick another spot and become blob-like again, for as long as possible. And the day goes on like that. Myself gets in my way. It would almost be funny if it weren't for the fact that it isn't funny.
So what I have to do is this: Plan something.
Anything. And do it in advance. If my calendar says I have to be at the post office at 10 am to mail something, I will be there. (I don't actually write stuff like that on my calendar.) Which means I have to get dressed. I have to get kids dressed, and I have to LEAVE MY HOUSE. So this week, stuff is planned--except for Friday. I better come up with something.
Also, what I have to do is take full advantage of any sunshine I see. If the sun is streaming in and resting on my couch, I must stop whatever I'm doing (even if it's being a blob) and soak in the sun for as long as it stays. That is a rule I have for myself in the winter. My brain requires sunshine as much as it requires sleep.
And also, I need to stop looking at pictures from the summer.
Finally, I need to blog more. The rambling makes me feel better, and there's only so much rambling I should subject Jeremy to.
So there you go--my ridiculous tips for surviving winter. Don't worry about me--we will make it through. Summer always comes back. And then all will be right with the world again.
Now, what should I make for dinner?
*Turns out, what I needed was a bath and a quick read of Shannon Hale's "Book of a Thousand Days". Have you read that book? You need to.