The calendar says that it's winter, and Day has begun its slow crawl back toward spring, although here in the US south there are still plenty of days that I can open the windows. Even so, I've decided to try something new this year: hibernating.
I noticed last year with all the staying home that we didn't get the Yearly Ick, that thing children love to share that they contract once a month and takes three weeks to properly get over before beginning again. I'm not sure why I had accepted it as inevitable, but having once escaped it I'm not eager to go back. So, until the kids are older, we're staying home in the winter. Especially the little one.
Stir crazy as I become when I'm stuck at home due to weather or car trouble or other external circumstances, I am actually looking forward to this - probably because it's voluntary and planned. I have a stash of brightly colored knitting projects, and enough books to read one myself and one aloud to the kids each week.
Things like this tend to take on life and meaning of their own (like a malfunctional vehicle and a new COVID variant presenting itself right after I made this decision) but I'm optimistic. All lessons don't have to be unpleasant.
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