My first-grader is having a hard time understanding spring.  I can hardly blame her.  Nearly a month ago, she learned that the calendar declared the first day of spring.  Shouldn’t that mean it is time to break out the shorts and sandals, jump ropes and bubbles?

I’ve tried to explain it to her:  spring is the transition between winter and summer.  In our part of the country, that doesn’t mean the days gradually get warmer and warmer.  It means that some days are like winter and some days are like summer.  Only we have been sadly lacking in the days that feel like summer.

I grew up in the north.  I understand that summer really is only three months around here.  But I’m ready for days that are more reminiscent of summer than winter.  I’m ready for that smell of spring: a smell of mud with a hint of warmth in the cool breeze.  We haven’t had it yet.

I’ve tried to stay positive when others post pictures of their kids in sundresses and flip-flops while mine are still bundled in sweatshirts, jeans and  winter coats.  My patience is starting to wear thin.  I was prepared for March to come in like a lion and go out like a lamb.  But then this March went out with more lion.  I know that April showers bring May flowers.  I’m just not sure that April snow storms are good for growing flowers.

We’re ready for spring around here.  We’re ready to be outside and soak up some rays (well, as many rays as we can soak up slathered in sunscreen).  If spring doesn’t want to come for me, can it at least come for my daughter?  She’s getting confused…

Photo by theogeo