Written by Malinda Just Tuesday, 16 March 2010 18:44
Even though at the moment I write this, the sky is gloomy and the wind is blustery from the north, March is a great month.
For some of you, March is great because of the ensuing Madness. I don’t tend to get hyped because of basketball, but I will fill out a bracket. My strategies—pick some underdogs, pick some cool-sounding schools (i.e. Gonzaga), pick some top-ranked teams for good measure—may be laughable, but I somehow manage to do just as well as many folks who put a lot of thought into it. But as entertaining as bracketology is, it’s got nothing to do with my love for March.
St. Patrick’s Day is a March perk as well. No, I’m not Irish (at least that I know of), but green is one color I can sport with the best of them. No pinches for me.
And when the calendar flips to March, it’s not beyond me that I will turn another year older a few weeks in. This year marks 27. Yikes.
But despite that celebration (and perhaps in a few years, in spite of that celebration), I always look forward to March—March metamorphosis that is.
As it’s said on Sesame Street, metamorphosis means big change. And that’s exactly what March is. March brings weather metamorphosis. Even now, the north wind isn’t quite so cold because the weather is in the process of a big change. After the rain last week, my grass isn’t quite so brown—my daughter even took note of the color change. “Gween,” she pointed out. And the trees aren’t quite so bare—the two trees in my front yard have some buds, promising warmer weather ahead.
But I’m not complaining about winter, mind you. For the record, I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t complain about winter until it was officially over. And that doesn’t happen until March 20. That’s when my calendar says it’s the first day of spring. I plan to make this promise again next year. It has made the winter nearly enjoyable—because I wasn’t always wishing it were over—and it makes the subtle changes into spring all the more noticeable.
But the weather isn’t the only metamorphosis going on this March. We’ve had some big changes happen in our family as well.
First, my nearly 2-year-old went to Sunday school for the first time this month. I could hardly believe it when I found out she could start before she actually turned 2, but at our church, kids can start Sunday school any time during the quarter they have their birthday. And that, for us, started the first Sunday of March.
My husband and I weren’t too worried about leaving our daughter. She rarely notices when mommy and daddy leave her in the nursery. And, we were right. She didn’t bat an eyelash. She sat down at the table, saw the other kids were using stickers and crayons, and mommy and daddy were forgotten.
But I have to admit, I was a little intrusive, as I brought my camera to mark the milestone. I didn’t cry, though.
I also hit the 30-week mark in my pregnancy this month. On that exact day, it seems, I became more tired, achier, more out of breath and more likely to get stuck in bed, on the couch or on the floor. And trust me, my toddler isn’t much help at getting me out of those predicaments.
With 30-weeks also came the realization that I can no longer go on long, lengthy walks around town. I hit brick walls out of nowhere—I feel good, I feel good, I feel good, BAM (that’s me hitting the brick wall on the opposite side of town from my house).
My face is also becoming very familiar at Associates for Women’s Health in Newton. I have the pleasure of making bi-weekly trips to see Dr. Bradley (good thing I like him) until 36 weeks. Then I will go every week until the big day.
I’m amazed at how quickly this 40-week metamorphosis is occurring. And I’m sure spring is right around the corner, too.