My son has ended his affair with, “The Tease”, March and has now moved onto the lovely, April. I can’t say I blame him. How could you not fall in love with April? She is bursting with life and everything breathtaking, beautiful. To be quite frank, she has even stole my heart a time or two.
Like my son, I marvel at how quickly Mother Nature can take you from Blah to Shazam! The earth is ripe with opportunity. The sod beckons me, “Come. Hold me in your hands. Dig a hole. Plant something and watch what I can do!”. The sun draws me like a small child to a shiny, new toy. “Hurry! Come out and Play! Soak up all my rays while you still have the chance.”
I just wish I had more time with April. She leaves as quickly as she comes. I have so many things I want to do while she is still here. I’ve made plans. I’ve written them down, set them in stone. I’m ready to go.
Then I need to enjoy my time with this hunk of metal, Tractor. Since the middle of March, I have stood by it, leaned up against it, out-and-out lounged on it, and fell off it a time or two. When I look at the Tractor all I see is a piece of cold, steel, machinery. When my son looks at the Tractor all he sees is love. So, what’s a mother to do? I can not keep him from hauling hay or plowing the garden without ever firing the ignition. He has work to do, and I can not stand in his way. I will continue to court the stinking tractor.
As April continues to march on, I must keep my head above the water and keep swinging. Yes, swinging! It’s all my baby girl wants to do. She is almost five years old and she refuses to swing alone. This means I either swing with her or push her when I’m not with the tractor. Swing or Tractor? Swing or Tractor? Hmm…
April has added so much to my life. Swings, tractors, gardens, and a new baby. Yes, a new baby! A thousand April’s may come and go. Spring will soon turn to summer, summer to fall and fall to winter, but I know I will never forget this April. It is tattooed on my heart and branded on my soul. A memory so strong that no measure of time can erase.
See, I got to witness the business of being born. Being a spectator versus being a participant brings a whole new perspective to the event. I was present in the room when my sister gave birth to her precious baby girl. I was in complete awe of what the human body can stand and produce without breaking. I felt my sister’s pain and I felt her elation. I was traumatized and amazed. I was a bit of an emotional mess!
Anyway, back to the baby girl. She is one of the prettiest babies I have ever laid eyes on. She has a head full of jet black hair and her skin is the color of toffee. She’s an absolute Angel, perfect in every way. Ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes and one slice of heaven here on Earth.
April 9, 2012
6 lbs & 10 ozs