I’ve written about this a few times before — probably because the memory is so vivid and special to me.
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Last night, Connor woke up around 4:30am, scared of the thunderstorm. I hugged him while he told me that the thunder was scary.
“I think it’s pretty,” I said.
He thought about it. “I think so, too,” he agreed. Then he remembered what he’d learned in preschool earlier in the week, and his eyes lit up: “And when the rain is done, your flowers will be growed!”
Tonight, though, he wasn’t so sure the thunder was pretty. So, I pulled up the blinds, opened the window, and knelt with him at the windowsill behind the curtains as we watched the rain. The breeze carried the scent of rain into the bedroom, and I felt a fine mist on my face for just a moment.
I put my arm around his waist. “The rain is so pretty,” I said. He agreed, and we watched the dark clouds roll by, and watched the rain fall in puddles on the driveway.
“Mommy, look!” he said. “You forgot to put those sticks in the garbage!”
Ah, well. It was a nice moment while it lasted.
During the winter of 2013-2014 (aka the Polar Vortex), Toledo got 7 feet and 2 inches of snow in total — that’s over two feet more than normal — and saw temps dipping down to -15°F. It was a particularly miserable and treacherous winter, and it killed several of my plants to boot.
We bought furniture in the spring. In March, we bought a new bed: a California King. We’re sleeping better (for the most part), and we’re no longer stealing each other’s blankies, since there’s plenty to go around. Then, in April, we bought furniture for our sunroom, so we can all properly enjoy the outdoors indoors.
In April, I got in my second-ever car accident — as with the first one, through no fault of my own. A semi driver didn’t judge the wet conditions properly and collided with me from behind on the expressway. That resulted in my first-ever trip to the ER, my first CT scan, my first case of whiplash, and my first dealings with injury claims representatives. I am now paranoid of not only being in another driver’s blind spot, but of leaving assured clear distance and being tailgated.
In May, we held our 2nd Annual Memorial Day Weekend Shindig. Ten adults and two toddlers hanging out in the sunroom on the new furniture, enjoying sausages and hot dogs and snacks and desserts and one another’s company. Good times.
In August, Toledo’s water supply got overrun with blue-green algae and its byproducts, rendering it unsafe to drink for a full weekend. Mass panic ensued all over town, of course. Aaron went out and got jugs of well water from a friend’s house, then handily found plenty of bottled water at the store, anyway.
All through the spring and summer, I got really into my gardening. I took two full days and two half-days off of work specifically for gardening purposes, in addition to spending many Saturday naptimes outside. I managed to rid my beds of the invasive Maypop vine (mostly) and get the front fence looking neat and tidy.
In September, after one of my last gardening days of the season, I got into some trumpet vine and had a severe allergic reaction. A trip to urgent care got me a steroid shot, plus steroid pills and antihistamines, and the knowledge that I am exceptionally allergic to trumpet creeper. Luckily, a co-worker’s son (who isn’t allergic) came to my house and removed it for me, taking it home and transplanting it at his own house.
Connor enjoyed his first real Halloween this year! On October 30th, he and I went to Harper’s house and handed out candy and enjoyed beautiful weather and a fire in the firepit. On Halloween, Daddy stayed home from work and we went trick-or-treating in our neighborhood in the rain. We only hit two houses, but Connor had a great time, all the same.
In November, I got new glasses for the first time in about four years. My prescription actually hadn’t changed much at all.
On Thanksgiving, we drove about 2.5 hours to Grammy’s apartment and had a Very Nice Time. Aaron’s brother came along, and Uncle Phil made a cameo appearance. It was the first time we’d seen my Mom’s apartment, and hopefully it won’t be the last.
