When Comes The Spring

Growing up in Minnesota, I became accustomed to long, arduous winters that stole away the fall, and leached into spring. The endless days waking up fighting bone-chilling winds to (hopefully) start my car so it would run on dark ice-covered roads got to me after a while. I seriously believe seasonal effective disorder is a real thing. How those folks in Seattle do it I will never know. But inevitably, whether it was in March or June, spring eventually came to the frozen tundra. The snow pack melted into a gross muddy mess, the sun shone, and slowly green returned to the earth. On the first day above 40 degrees, my fellow Minnesotans and I broke out our shorts and sandals, headed for the local Dairy Queen. Spring coming to the desert is a much more subtle process. The temperature goes up, yes...but the sand remains sand, and the sun keeps shining like it does the other 364 days of the year. This past April marks the beginning of my second spring (and year) in California. I have to say, it has been a very eventful 12 months for our family.

We completed our first cross-country move last April, moved into our third home in three years, took a new job (in T's case), made great new friends, visited Vegas and went on a Southwest road trip, and learned we were expecting our first child (a boy!). Not too shabby. I've written a lot about new experiences in the desert, like dodging bobcats and spiders, hurricane force winds, and our forays into "green living" with organic vegetable boxes, composting, and canning (coming soon: cloth diapering...stay tuned!). Adjusting to rural life hasn't really been as challenging as I thought it would be though. The most important thing I've learned in the past year is to truly be present in each moment, to slow down, enjoy, and savor. I had to chuckle this morning as I drove to grab milk from the grocery store a few miles away. There was a small snarl of cars at 8am waiting on the main road that leads into the base. A traffic jam! In this existence, traffic consists of twenty or so cars in a row waiting more than a minute. A far cry from the rush hour nightmares of Minneapolis, that's for sure. The slow deliberate pace and the sometimes deafening quiet of this desert community isn't for everyone, but I have come to appreciate it.

This is not to say that my anxiety-prone mind never races ahead, believe me it does. We are beyond words excited for the birth of our baby boy in September. Much of our lives are now occupied with the preparations, expectations, and fears of impending parenthood. Also, after a year in one place, a military wife begins to feel that unsettling itch set in, the knowledge that in a year or two we will once again be uprooted, boxed up, and moved on, to another adventure in a place unknown. There are days when all the uncertainties get to me, and I find myself holding my breath. But then I stop, look at where I've been and what I've been through, at the husband with whom I have weathered storms and welcomed sunshine, and I exhale. What will be, will be. In the meantime, I am going to have a damn good time.

I am looking forward (but not too far!) to some such good times in the coming weeks. T and I plan to road trip to Anaheim this weekend for an Angels game. There are also vacations to Minnesota and San Francisco on the books in the next few months. Mostly though, I'm excited to know I have lots of blank days ahead, which will be whatever I make of them - hopefully fulfilled, healthy, blessed, and full of spring fun:) Wishing you the same!