and now it feels like summer

86 degrees, mosquitoes, and my kids are bitching about being hot.

a typical minnesota spring.

it's beginning to look a lot like easter

sigh.

forget robins

here are two sure signs that spring has finally, finally come to minnesota: i took off my long underwear today, and i cut my meds in half. whee!

negative four

negative fucking four degrees.

why. why. why?

it's hard to be a hipster in minnesota

metal facial piercings + minus 5 degree temperatures = ow ow ow!

dead man snowboarding

my husband, god love him, is a cheerful, optimistic sort. still not sure what he's doing with me.

this morning, we woke up to the start of the minneapolis winter: 9 degrees, multiple inches of snow, and a nasty gale whipping it all to a balmy -23 windchill.

and the handsome man says to me, "at least it's pretty."

well. i try to be temperate and respectful in my conversations with the spouse, but really - don't poke the bear. i yelped, "pretty? yeah, like a frozen wasteland of DEATH is pretty!"

"gee, good morning to you, too, mrs. chekhov," he responded.

now i must go get blind drunk until april.

it's beginning to look a lot like christmas

except it's october 10.

fuck me.

may day

three sure signs of spring:

1. the rabbits have decapitated all my tulips.
2. the black, fossilized snow mountain that was mounded up in the mall parking lot has finally melted.
3. there is a layer of sediment in the tub after i bathe my children.

i heart spring.

march madness

thing two is sick. again.

i am sick. again.

my friends' kids are sick. again.

my in-laws (aka the babysitters) are sick. again.

i hate march. again.

idiots

people, no one is more eager for spring than moi. but i think you're pushing it just a tad, perhaps out of hope, perhaps because some of your higher functioning circuits have frozen.

so let me help you out. it is too cold to wear shorts if:

• you wear your knee-length down coat over them.
  
• you stop during your jog to make a snowball.
  
• you live anywhere in minnesota.

there. go put on some long underwear and wait it out, just like the rest of us.

shutting down

ah, march. that time of year when my brain and my body completely disintegrate.

not only do i lose my tiny little mind after nearly half a year of winter, but my carcass shows the strain. dry, bloody nose. finger tips that are cracking open and bleeding. feet that are beyond disgusting.

and now, thing one and i have both come down with some sort of bug that bestows killer headaches, fever, and intestinal...episodes. oh, and she's barfing.

so i've shut the machinery down as best i can, as least as far as our digestive tracts go:  we're both on the saltines-jello-flat sprite meal plan. 

march:  coming in like a lion, as usual. a lion that has eviscerated me and is now feasting on my entrails.

don't forget your booties 'cause it's cold out there

you know it's going to be a long winter when you wake up and realize you were dreaming about asking your doctor to up your dosage of antidepressants.

uncle

it's official:  i give up.

another double-digit-below-zero day. another day spent gazing blankly at the frozen wasteland out my window. 

we didn't get out of bed until 9.

we had gummy bears and tings (think cheetos without the cheese) for breakfast.

my living room is now a blanket fort.

we're all still in our jammies and have no plans for getting dressed (yesterday it finally happened at 5 pm, but only because we had to go to a school open house).

the beds are unmade.

baskets of unfolded laundry are sitting around.

mary poppins is playing (again).

and i'm trolling the internet, looking for blogs of people who are crabbier than me (fortunately, there are plenty – thank you all).

in one word, why i don't have a dog in minnesota

poopsicles

aloha

thanks to itunes, my kids know a huge range of christmas music. i had kind of assumed that the favorite would be something traditional and climatically suited to minnesota, like jingle bells or frosty the snowman, or even baby, it's cold outside.

but no. when thing two crawled into bed with us this -14 morning (that's temperature, folks, not wind chill), here's what she was singing:

mele kalikimaka is the thiiiing to say

on a bright, hawaiian christmas daaaaay.

that's the island greeting that we send to you

from the land where palm trees swaaaay.

here we know that christmas will be green and briiiiight,

the sun to shine by day and all the stars at niiiiight.

mele kalikimake is hawaii's way

to say 'merry christmas' to yoooooou.

do you hear what i hear?

*sniffle*

*cough*

*[swear word]*

predictably, my stocking is going to be filled with kleenex and motrin this year. thing one debuted the death cold in our house, then handed the baton off to thing two, who is in the throes. and a few hours ago, i began to feel the soreness creeping through my throat and head.

now, if someone just lands in the er or urgent care, it'll be a good ol' family xmas. i think it's my turn this year, and i am trying:  i walked INTO THE DOORFRAME of my ob/gyn's office the other day, ricocheting my skull off the metal. apparently the girls come by it honestly.

how cold is it? it's so cold that...

you know you're a minnesotan when this is the weather forecast you hear delivered in a cheery voice:

"well, it could be worse!"

"it's finally snowing"

amazing how different that phrase sounds from the mouth of a 5-year-old than from the mouth of a 43-year-old. things one and two are already outside, fully suited up, pre-breakfast, loving winter. 

god bless. and stay outside.

noooooo!

thing one:  "mommy, is that a bunch of cardinals in the tree across the street?"

me:  "where?"

thing one:  "there, in the top of that tree – see all that red?"

me:  (squint, study)  "those aren't cardinals – those are LEAVES THAT HAVE CHANGED COLOR! AHHHHHHH!"

with apologies to dr. seuss

the sun did not shine.

it was too wet to play.

so we sat in the house

all that cold, cold, wet day.

or we would have, if had any sense at all. but i had tried to take the girls to see farm babies at the minnesota zoo (sponsored by hormel! ook) last week, only to remember it was spring break for the minneapolis public schools and there were approximately 1 million people with the same idea. we bailed; much unhappiness ensued.

so i promised – something i try NEVER to do – that i would take them today, because the damn exhibit closes this weekend. (perhaps because hormel has plans for the little dears?) which means, of course, that it has been raining, snowing, gusting and blowing since yesterday.

"but mommy, you promised!" so, like an asshole, i packed us up and headed through the slush to the swine barn. at least i'm a prepared asshole:  i had the jogging stroller with the rain cover, a lap robe, snacks, drinks, lovies – christ, the girls were bundled up better than lara in dr. zhivago. other people were slogging the 1/2 mile or so each way with flimsy umbrella strollers, soggy blankets, or just carrying their unhappy young'uns.

and, like all great parenting achievements, the payback was...whining. it's cold, why can't we see the dolphins too, i want an oompa loompa now, etc.

tomorrow the whole family is going to the water park! fuuuuuu...