Spring tomorrow...

I don't know why I anxiously await the arrival of spring. Perhaps it is a metaphorical reassurance that all things brown and shriveled will come back to life soon. I wish that were true for calming my own seasonal fears.

Truth is that I haven't had one iota of inspiration for writing. I've been green at the gills and bone chilling tired. All of these things are good, so I understand from the people who rejoice when I tell them I feel like hell. But, then yesterday, at eight weeks exactly, I have a good day where I'm not tempted too severely to engage in dry heaves, actually eat a few things without feeling the need to barf, and manage to do a few basic daily tasks without contemplating the benefits of being in a coma. Instead of enjoying the day, I worry that it is the beginning of the end...

But, my good friends exhaustion and nausea are back again today. Perhaps I am just adjusting to feeling bad all the time. Or, it may just be that with this being my third pregnancy, maybe my body is getting this pregnancy thing down pat. Who knows...only time and the ultrasound machine will tell.

Nevertheless, I look forward to the arrival of spring and warmer days. That is in part what I look forward to in moving back south. I'm not cut out for weather forecasts that include the words "flurries, ice, snow, accumulation." I'm also not cut out for the fast pace, the striving for a sanitized sense of prestige and accomplishment, nor the guilt of not being a Renaissance woman with so much cultural privilege at my fingertips. Nope, I'm going to return to my home land of fru-fru mothers who compete in hairdo's and redneck men who compete in terms of lawn-mower size.

I look forward to returning to the culture of crisp, clean super markets that feature sit-down cafes, and nice southern grannies with sample foods on every isle. I look forward to attending a big, southern church where the preacher knows how to preach and people get there thirty minutes early with their bible in tow. I look forward to the stillness, the quiet, the outside air bristling a tune that is free of the hum of the metrorail and distant sirens.

Now, with that fluffly image in mind, I just have to wrap my head around the preceeding part of that picture...moving all our crap! And, finding a house hubby and I can agree on and enjoy for the rest of our days. And, complicating the picture in a BIG sort of way is his retarded brother who will have to live with us. There goes my peace and harmony...

Interesting, hopefully warmer days ahead...