Keep Calm. Spring is Coming

I was standing in my bedroom one day looking out at the beauty and tranquility of the gently falling snow. I can't describe the feelings that washed over me as I looked out at this "Walking Through the Woods on a Snowy Evening" scene spread out before me. Wait a minute. Yes I could. The feelings were anger, disgust, and frustration. This day in particular wasn't late November or early December, it was March 28th, the first day of my spring break. The previous day we has gotten a whopping 2-3 inches of heavy snow and probably the worst drive to work I had experienced all year. I reminded myself of the same thing I tell myself every year around this time. "It's OK. It will melt. At least it isn't November." Only this year it seems different for some reason. First, I usually find myself saying that to myself in early to mid March. Second, with the February like temperatures we had all through March, April is not turning out to be all that springy. Who's to say that once the lakes begin to melt we won't get April showers in the form of lake effect snow? I really am the kind of person who tries to make the best of it. I feel like if we have chosen to live up here we should take advantage of the winter conditions and do things like ski, skate, and snowshoe. That all sounds good on theory, but I haven't once done any of those things this winter even though I own both skis (downhill and cross country) as well as snowshoes. But enough is enough! I avoided going on Facebook to look at pictures of my friends' fabulous spring break extravaganzas and have forbidden my mom from sending anymore "It's 80 degrees here in Florida and look at pictures of my begonias!" emails. I am reminded of that old British poster that says "Keep Calm and Carry On" (in case you didn't know the original version because it's everywhere in every rendition imaginable). Only I have come up with some versions of my own:

Keep Calm and Keep Shoveling
Keep Calm and Wear A Sweater
Keep Calm and Buy Snow Tires

I usually refuse to wear socks after spring break as a point of protest, but I don't think that's going to happen for a while. And when this endless winter does finally make way for spring the last of the snow is going to melt like gangbusters. Then, well, just Keep Calm and Swim.

My Life in the Stands

This one was written in early March. It didn't make the paper. Enjoy!

It's Friday night and I have done the grocery shopping. Now the weekend is mine, I tell myself. But not so fast. Don't forget that the laundry needs to be done, we are volunteering at a youth wrestling tournament on Saturday and there's church and a play I want to attend on Sunday. Oh, and remember the stack of papers that need to be corrected and the lesson plans that still aren't finished. Since Early December our Saturdays have been spent in the bleachers at various varsity wrestling tournaments throughout northern Michigan. With my son making it all all the way to States this year we tacked on 3 more weeks to the season. Don't get me wrong. I love the sport of wrestling and I especially love supporting my son and his athletics. I enjoy supporting both boys in whatever they choose to do whether it's Sammy's sports or Robby's music and ministry. However, spending 8 hours sitting in bleachers after a two hour drive can test even the most dedicated parent. I always take a little ditty bag of stuff to keep me busy. I have even taken to letting school work pile up so I could take it with me on Saturdays. Even the excitement of the state tournament at The Palace of Auburn Hills quickly wore off as we stayed in the stands for the familiar 8 hour stretch. I have to keep reminding myself that we only have one more year and then it will be over. I do know there are parents who can completely relate when I utter that tiny prayer "Lord, please let this be the blizzard that calls off the tournament just this one Saturday." I understand that swim meets and volleyball tournaments can be just as brutal on the lower back and posterior. I really don't remember my butt hurting that much when the boys were younger. Maybe I just had more padding back then or the cartilage hadn't yet begun to break down in my hips. But besides the pain and discomfort of bleachers, Saturday tournaments reduce my weekends to the 5 hours after church on Sundays to get everything done that I can't do during the week. As much as I would like to say that everyone willingly pitches in, let's be real. Most of it falls on me. Fortunately another wrestling season is behind us and I am looking forward to a weekend of rest and relaxation. It just won't be this weekend.