Well, at least it's March now.
We just survived the coldest February on record for the Chicago area! That's the coldest winter recorded since 1875, people! Please don't point out how deliriously stupid we must be for living here. We're already quite aware and I'm sure all of my neighbors could hear me swearing about it this morning as I shoveled the sleet from our sidewalk (on our corner lot... think about that) wearing Evelyn in the Kelty backpack this morning.
Oddly enough, my first thought as I stepped outside ready to do battle with the ice-covered snowfall was, "it's actually kind of warm out here." And it was a whopping 28 degrees. That's what has become of me. There is no more California left within me. It's. All. Gone.
Evelyn is 11 months old today. Why does it fly so fast?
Christopher's head comes up to my armpit. Let's take bets about how much longer it'll be before he's taller than me! He announced this week that he wants to take gymnastics until he's as old as I am. That is, he'd like to continue doing gymnastics every Monday afternoon until he's 36. I told him that he's going to be in great shape.
Colin is starting to try to write his name (he's been singing it since he was 2, thanks to a little jingle Mike taught him) and is the most endearing 3 year old on the planet. He can carry off a purple playsilk cape, construction goggles, and the scariest "mad" face you've ever seen. I made him corduroy pants with a purple fleece star on the leg this week. He intends to wear them everyday until I sneak them away to wash overnight. That's not happening tonight, so I guess he'll be a little grungy tomorrow. No biggie.
Mike has a nasty virus and went to bed before the kids last night. Gotta get that guy a few more boxes of Kleenex tomorrow or he'll have to start using rolls of TP...
I can't wait until the weather turns. I can run in rain and freezing cold, but I can't (won't?) do black ice. I want to cheer on spring's arrival, but I know that once it's here, my baby girl will be 1. And that's one thing I'm not anxious to speed up. I want to snarfle up her sweet babyness enough to last me forever.
