With all due respect to T.S. Eliot, I think he was wrong. January definitely is the cruelest month. Could this month feel any longer? It's true that after the, ahem, challenging holiday season we had, I was more than ready to bid it farewell and to welcome a new year. But now I'm feeling the winter doldrums in a major way. That all-too-familiar cooped-up feeling has taken over my days. It's cold. It's dark. My days and weeks seem to stretch on endlessly.
January has brought out my sourest moods. Everything seems worse than it is. January has made Gus's normal toddler highs and lows look to me like I have a little Jekyll/Hyde on my hands. Paul's whining feels like it's reaching epic proportions. I feel like I may scream if I have to break up one more fight between my eldest two boys. I've been a stay-at-home mom for four years now. I know this - January through March - is the most challenging time of the year. January makes me feel like I'm just slogging through life. Every little place we go takes extra time and planning - all that winter gear. Filthy, salt-covered cars wiping up against clean coats. Dry, chapped hands. Sickness, sickness, sickness. OK, I'm done.
Now, I know that this will pass. I look back on, say, last January, and it feels like it was just yesterday. I also know that these difficult times make the more pleasant times, like the first taste of spring, all the sweeter. So I will focus on that and try not to be such a grump.
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