blustery day

The wind is howling, and I think it might be raining, too, but the wind is blowing the raindrops away. The sun keeps trying to peek out from behind the gloomy clouds but is thwarted in each attempt. I fully expect to see my neighbor's patio furniture go twirling past my windows, Wizard of Oz style, with my just-bloomed tulips right behind. Not what I was hoping for at the end of April, when my toes tingle for sandals and little boys ache to be out of doors for the sake of being out of doors. Alas, Mother Nature, like most of the rest of the world, doesn't really care about my opinion on the matter.

I'm trying not to be blue about it, so today I will lounge in my sweats on the couch with an arm around each babe, one on my lap and one snuggled into my side. We will watch Winnie the Pooh and read picture books and make a cave and go on a bear hunt. Maybe bake something. We will sprawl  on the big bed together and giggle and roll and bounce and tickle. I will kiss plump rosy cheeks until little voices squeal with laughter. I'd like to say that all three of us will take a nap, but that will probably turn out to be a lie. Today I will let wiggly little boys toss the clean laundry out of the basket over and over. I will fantasize that my home actually is as clean and tidy as I try to make it. We will build little log cabins and I will fix something retro and cozy for dinner, like sloppy joes, but better. (We like to call them sloppy josés).

It will be a good kind of blustery day.