For us February started with acting like a bunch of fool children. Also like a bunch of warm-blooded Floridians facing a bunch of cold fronts and faced to wear their entire thin wardrobes in a single day.
It was trips to Disney World and the county fair. Driving race cars and riding on flying elephants and brightly lit Ferris Wheels that were way too high for Mama. It was experiencing these things that had once been unfinished chapters that we had bookmarked for later. Watching Phoenix light up at something we’d shown him before, but now it wasn’t just something we were pushing him into. It was something he was doing and taking and it was a memory he was making and keeping for himself.
And Craig and I got to just stand back and silently punch the air and high five the crap out of each other.
I also spent a lot of late hours and nap times of the past few weeks in front of my computer battling grammar and punctuation. I’ve “finished” the current draft of my manuscript and have sent it out for other eyes to read and I’m sitting back in an imaginary orange grove thinking about a couple of crazy kids and listening to a lot of Shovels & Rope, The Lumineers and Johnny Cash. It’s a twangy, foot stomping sort of place to be.
Measured the kids this month, and my earlier suspicions have been confirmed. My kids are weeds and I had nothing to do with their genetics.
As for February being a month for lovers, I baked a shit ton of stuff. I dipped strawberries and oreo balls. And then my own paramour took me out for a rainy night out of dinner and drinks. It was splendid and romantic and not once did I have to cut up someone else’s food. We got sushi, because we’re still ridiculously cool, and then we went to our little baby town’s downtown and had drinks in a warmly lit bar with friendly faces and a local duo who sang Old Crow Medicine Show. It was fantastic and we got home to our wild, loud babies who had roped their Titi into watching Aristocats again and again.
February is also Titi and Daniel’s month of birthday celebrations. They’re a few years apart though.
Phoenix had a dentist appointment that was…an experience. Phoenix battles everyday with sensory overload whether it’s noise or touch, and something as pushy and intimate as a dentist rooting around in your mouth is almost impossible to explain to him. But he got through it, and Craig got him a Mario and Luigi to brighten the day. He ended the ordeal by asking for a band-aid. Over his mouth. He really just wanted to make sure no one else tried to get in there.
For us it was a month to see how far we’ve come and how loud we can be in public places. Like I said, it was a time to act like fool children. Without a stitch of pants on.