In a recent post, I said that I thought the seasons were changing. I said I thought we were turning a corner.
Now I'll say this: it's lovely around this bend.
The sun is out, literally and figuratively. It has been warm and mostly sunny for more than a week. Spirits across campus have lifted immeasurably as students have ended the hunkering down of the snowiest winter since 1874, swarming the quad in shorts and halter tops and flip flops, playing wiffle ball and studying in the sun on patches of greening grass twenty feet away from still-melting snowbanks.
Which reminds me - VTBudFan asked for an update and wondered how her April 18 guess had fared in Ice Out 2008. Had we been focusing on the backyard only, she would probably not have been that far off, as this is what it looked like at the start of this week:
The front yard, however, still looks like this:
Honestly, though, I can hardly even see the snow in my yard with all the sun in my eyes. But it's not just the blue skies, warm weather, and campus festivities that have me celebrating this seasonal shift. It is the change in my son that has accompanied the change in the weather. Is there a direct causal relationship between the weather and the behavior? I don't know. It might be that we have finally found the right balance in medication. It might be that the strategies and routine we've implemented in school are finally paying off. It might be that the upheaval we experienced in our family is now a full year old and Bud has been able to readjust and settle in.
I don't know what has caused it; I only know that it's glorious.
Bud and I spent last weekend hanging out together. We ran errands, we raked leaves, we had a pizza picnic, we went to the playground, we visited the library, we took a walk, we worked at my office, and we ate brunch in the college's dining room. We had fun together. All weekend.
There were moments of disagreement and flashes of tension, but that's all they were: moments and flashes. The weekend was even, and happy, and stress-free. Bud sang a lot. We laughed together. We hugged and high-fived and held hands. Saturday and Sunday were like the Mom and Bud Days of old. I spent all weekend smiling and thinking "he's back!," wondering if behind his own smile, Bud was thinking "she's back!"
And the mood has continued this week, even though our schedule has been disrupted because I had to work two consecutive late nights. Bud was home with his grandparents, happy, cheerful, and charming, and he called me at work each evening to sing me a song and say goodnight. Tonight, I was home again and we slid back into our regular routine seamlessly - no bargaining, no retribution, no payback. Just an enthusiastic welcome with wide-open arms and a big toothy eight-year-old grin.
It's the start of a new season. We're back. And we're better than ever.