It snowed on Saturday.
Saturday, March 29, 2008. Seattle, Washington.
We had at least an inch of snow on the ground, maybe two.
And it was those big, fluffy white flakes that make you want to run outside and roll a snowman, then curl up under a blanket and sip hot cocoa while your fingers warm up again. It was the kind of snow that makes you want to sing Christmas carols.
Did I mention that it's almost April? Hey, Mother Nature, the clue phone is ringing and it's for you, babe. In case you hadn't glanced at your calendar lately, let me remind you: It's SPRING! What's with all the snow?!?
When we first learned about this assignment, one of the "bright sides" we clung to was the boat's typical schedule: underway for six months, from April to October, home for the other six months. Yes, it's a long time; but at least the CDR would be home for the holidays and gone during the dry, sunny season, when this land of a million parks and outdoor recreational activities really comes to life.
But that's not the way it's worked out. The CDR left for his first big trip in early March, when this land is still covered by clouds and soaked by a cold, persistent mist. And I'm fairly sure I have seasonal affective disorder.
My poor children have suffered through these past three weeks, as the frequent rains have rendered their typically jovial, fairly easygoing mom into a frequently sniping, surprisingly short-tempered witch.
Today was a bright, fairly warm day; so Mo and I spent a good chunk of the morning outside, playing hockey and pruning the bamboo. As a result, I got more done during this afternoon's naptime than I have accomplished in the past three days.
I'm hoping for more days like today, not just for my own productivity, but more importantly, for my children's happiness. I have given them far less than the best of me in the last few weeks; and with seven weeks to go before the CDR gets home, something's gotta give. And that something's gotta be this depression.
WebMD says that it takes at least two years to determine whether or not someone has SAD. But I have to act now, for myself and for my boys. So tomorrow, while the kids are in daycare, I'm going to leave work early and buy myself a happy lamp. So long, Sister Sadness. Hello, Little Miss Sunshine.