The change

I keep telling every one who will listen: "in six weeks everything will be better".

In six weeks we'll be in April. The weather should turn to be so much nicer. No winter shoes. No sneakers. No hats. All put away for another whole six months. Just long enough for me to start considering this paraphernalia is quaint.

In six weeks, the first of my four child units will officially become a teenager.

In six weeks, I might just put in my order for garden seeds.

In six weeks, I'll get a new haircut and go from looking like Lorne Elliot (the resemblance is uncanny sometimes) to more like Lyle Lovett.

In six weeks, I should be done my French language training. (I so hope to small gawds that I am. I'm so freaking overloaded, there are days I barely know my name.)

In six week, my soon-to-be-teenaged-child-unit's high school should be decided, and we should all be on the happy road to preparing a transition plan.

In six week, I will have a significantly lessened bout of cabin fever which is resulting in an extremely trigger happy fuse that goes off when there is any sort of vibration near me.

In six weeks, I'll be six weeks older, six weeks wiser.

Right now I'm trying to enjoy the minutes that are before me. I'm trying to be conscious of the my needs, even though it's soooooo much easier to help some one else out. It feels better and more fulfilling to project outwards, then inwards. It's a matter of course.