Today.
Listening to ice melt.
Slow bubbles burping up last November’s air.
But that’s ahead of myself.
A mud season sport.
Teasing of Springtime.
Winter sports
Lying in bed while our newborn wiggles, squeaks, and spittles all over us.
Dodging Covid.
Endless bottles and bouncing in the wee hours with eyes crusted half-shut and mind in a stumbling fog.
Navigating Covid logistics conversations in a partnership with very different needs and risk tolerance.
Snow angels and fresh snow footprint painting.
Falling on the ice in the trail heads parking lot with my 3 month old strapped to my chest. Grateful to fall to my side. Baby slept through the whole thing.
Snow flake tasting.
Ice shattering.
Marathon cooking every meal for a breastfeeding partner in pandemic isolation.
Ice design ogling.
Diaper changing.
Watching my partner hold tight or newborn as they plummet sled-ward toward the Connecticut River. My child’s first sled ride. My partner’s first in years.
Walking and walking and walking to get my baby to sleep.
Snow angels.
Breast milk donor hunting.
Walking on the frozen Connecticut with friends (yes, finally, friends) skipping ice patties on frozen water while my companions discuss how the mountains were formed.
