This summer, what's it gonna be?
Is it gonna be like 2005, when I was a stay at home mom who drove an arrow into the heart of my failing marriage, undoing everything in my children's world?
Or will it be like 2006, when I alternated between depression over my imminent divorce and euphoria over dating someone new (which also became a steep depression when I realized it wouldn't last), while trying to maintain some sort of normalcy and balance for my kids?
Or will it be like last year, when I swung on the pendulum in my relationship with Ian (together, broken up, together, broken up again--still hung up on old feelings and terrified my children would bond with yet another person who might not stick around)? During our break ups, I convinced myself to accept a few ultimately horrid dates with a couple of other guys, including a NH cop who is a 23 year veteran of the force and who, I later discovered, had a restraining order on him from his ex-wife--and who kept showing up at my old office unannounced and on duty. Fun times. (The fact that the cop now works overtime duty every week exactly 1 mile from my house is a little unnerving, but that's the nature of the vortex...)
At least Ian and I came back together.
I love summer. But in all honesty, I'm beginning to distrust it. Or maybe I'm beginning to distrust myself during the hotter months.
Today I woke up to great big snowflakes. The kids were so excited. "It's snowing but it's almost Spring!" shouted Nolan. Sean ran to the back door and flung it open, just to feel the snow and cold.
There is something to be said for March--and even for those of us who were born during this month, including me. The metaphors are transparent. It is a month rife with inconsistenices: snow and wind, warm sunshine and blooming crocuses. It is the bumpy, blustery segue to spring, which of course bleeds into summer...which inevitably, the past three years anyway, has led me to fall.