In like a Lion, Out like a Lamb – by Lorie Hill
March roars in like a lion
So fierce, The wind so cold,
It seems to pierce.
The month rolls on
And Spring draws near,
And March goes out
Like a lamb so dear.
I think my post ‘Spring in my Step’ has jinxed things for us all. This last week we have been house bound first through illness and now by the awful weather we’re having. Being British i’m well versed in unseasonably cold weather. We have nine or ten months to get used to this bitter pill but it still doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.
Yesterday was the first day in as many we were fighting fit to venture out. We were so cold we didnt get out of the car for more than 5 minutes and when we did it started to snow.
Today has been pretty much of the same only it’s a blowing a gale aswell. We managed to get to our Musika class this morning only after we had wrapped every inch of skin up to protect against the elements but then we came straight back home into the warm where we have stayed.
With a daughter now well enough to go out but unable to she has ricochet from one naughty thing to another, ive no doubt through boredom. In an effort to channel her energy i stripped her down and gave her hand paints to occupy her, which lasted for all of 15 minutes before i spent another hour and 15 minutes cleaning her and the mess up. Her picture above looks like someone who is trying to escape. I got the subliminal message she was sending me.
I then got out her toys, books, games, aqua doodle, play dough, turned on cbeebies, even built her Princess Castle tent which i keep under the stairs for reserve days but nothing would hold her interest for more than a nano second before she started looking for trouble again. I’m finding days where we are stuck indoors are starting to wear thin; its been a long winter and Belle is coming into the terrible two stage where she needs to get out more. She is trying to assert her independence yet frustrated by her inability to communicate effectively. She wants to do exactly as she pleases, even those things she knows are not allowed, with one eye on me to check I’m watching her. She is testing me more and more and it is tiring and cumbersome to keep telling her off.
I hope the poem above by Lorie Hill will ring true and we can get outside and take some exercise real soon.
The swollen River Stour