I have observed this week that I am a lot better at looking after children when it is sunny. When it is grey and miserable i.e. winter, every fibre of my being protests at expending any energy not devoted to remaining warm and reading nice books. That's what being an supremely lazy student for three years does to you. However, for the last two days the weather has been delightful! I'm talking "taking your coat off, running around in the garden for four hours and throwing open all available doors and windows" delightful. It has reached the giddy heights of 15 C at some points. Spring is here!
My body has decided it likes this state of affairs; yesterday Juliette, Ernest and I spent two and a half hours playing in the garden, I spent an hour today running around with Ernest inside (or, more accurately, running away from Ernest for fear of being eaten by a soft toy. The dangers of childcare...) and prior to that we had spent twenty minutes jumping from pile of mud to pile of mud in the garden. I will admit that I spent most of the rest of the day, before Ernest got back from creche, reading a book, but that is because Juliette had a friend round and my French isn't good enough to join in their imaginary games. Also, I resent being told which crayon I can use to colour in with. However, I now feel more like I want to run and play outside - that fresh, relaxed feeling has come back into the air, and it is fun playing with Ernest because his little giggle when I do something he enjoys is something even the laziest, most hard-hearted fiend couldn't resist, and I am consequently powerless.
The cynical part of me that accurately predicted the weather last May - three hot days in a row? People cracking out the shorts? I wisely remained in my trousers and was right to do so - suspects that this atmosphere change will not last for long, but the running, jumping, happy, relaxed part of me wishes it could be like this always and forever.
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