Spring has sprung with a full throated fury this past week. Forty degrees to sixty-five. Sort of like a Ce tantrum when we happen to suggest maybe four straight hours at the playground is enough. Smiling to screaming in 1.2 seconds. Two weeks ago, Chelle and I were drawing straws over who had to stomach another trip to the local Marshall’s to kill an afternoon. Now at least we are able to unleash the little beast outside to burn off that toddler energy. Forget green tech, someone needs to invest in how to harness toddler energy reserves. It’s truly awe inspiring.
So other than allowing us to put Ce out to pasture during the day, spring also means it’s the start of gardening season in New England. Last week, Ce and I planted the first wave of spring plants: snap peas, lettuce, spinach and radishes.
One advantage to Ce being in a pre-school dominated by boys is that she is not afraid of dirt. Saying poopy at the table with dinner guests. Not so much.