Winter sports
Today.
Listening to ice melt.
Slow bubbles burping up last November’s air.
But that’s ahead of myself.
A mud season sport.
Teasing of Springtime.
Winter sports
- Lying in bed while our newborn wiggles, squeaks, and spittles all over us.
- Dodging Covid.
- Endless bottles and bouncing in the wee hours with eyes crusted half-shut and mind in a stumbling fog.
- Navigating Covid logistics conversations in a partnership with very different needs and risk tolerance.
- Snow angels and fresh snow footprint painting.
- Falling on the ice in the trail heads parking lot with my 3 month old strapped to my chest. Grateful to fall to my side. Baby slept through the whole thing.
- Snow flake tasting.
- Ice shattering.
- Marathon cooking every meal for a breastfeeding partner in pandemic isolation.
- Ice design ogling.
- Diaper changing.
- Watching my partner hold tight or newborn as they plummet sled-ward toward the Connecticut River. My child’s first sled ride. My partner’s first in years.
- Walking and walking and walking to get my baby to sleep.
- Snow angels.
- Breast milk donor hunting.
- Walking on the frozen Connecticut with friends (yes, finally, friends) skipping ice patties on frozen water while my companions discuss how the mountains were formed.
