The day spring sprang, hopes fizzled, and Cal channeled Elliot Spitzer.

When we first made the decision to move to Colorado, so many of our friends and family said "But the winters are so harsh!!!" Midwesterners picture Colorado as a cold, snowy place where mothers stare longingly out the window much of the year, pining for the days they can turn their kids loose in the yard and get a break from the doldrums otherwise known as the dreaded 'cabin fever.'

What I never understood until I left the Midwest, however, is that this really, truly is as bad as it gets. While I assume that there are rare exceptions (Alaska, Siberia, Pluto), the Midwest suffers from the worst of Mother Nature's wrath. We got more snow this year than we would have in Colorado, just a short drive from Aspen. The wind chills here reached 25 below at points this season. The howling winds created snow drifts so deep that Chris's 4-wheel drive truck couldn't even attempt to get out of the drive way. The sun disappears for months on end. When I think back to those sunny Colorado winters with little wind, where I'd rely on a fleece instead of a parka....I guess I didn't know how good I had it!!

But now, at last, the cruel winter is over. SPRING HAS SPRUNG! We've had a few nice days so far, but it wasn't until today that buds appeared on the trees, I can finally feel safe packing away our winter gear, and birds are out in full force, chirping as they hop through the newly green grass.

I'm always amazed at how energetic you feel when you wake up to the sunshine and a promise of warm weather. The awakening of a new season always gives me inspiration- the feeling that everything will align and you'll check off every task on your to-do list. That *this* is *your* day and today you will be....Supermom!

We woke up nice and early, smiles on our faces. The house was peaceful and quiet (well, until World War III broke out over Sam's toy shopping cart). We sat around the table and enjoyed some pleasant conversations over a nutritious breakfast (ok, PopTarts). The usual chaos ensued while trying to get everyone dressed and in the car, but a breath of the fresh spring air reinvigorated me.

Cal found a part of a game in the closet and had carried it around with him all morning. It was a small metal rod-like thing that curved on the end. He called it his 'hooker thing' and was having lots of fun hanging his jacket on the hook or poking his toys with it. He got upset when I told him to leave it at home but I let him take it with us, planning on "leaving" it in the car when we returned. Sure enough, I was able to distract him as I took him out the car and the hook was left behind. Another crises averted.

The lady at the bank had given me two suckers, which I used for bribery in the store. The kids looked so adorable and fresh-faced (erm, except for the blue sucker goo that was now covering Cal's face. And hands. And is in Sam's hair?!). Yes, Samantha knocked a glass bottle of salad dressing onto the floor, and YES, I may have accidentally rammed Cal into some metal shelving as he hitched a ride on the side of the cart, but boys are tough (and he still had his sucker in his mouth, so the crying was muffled. I keed! I keed!).

There is a point in each day when your confidence that THIS is YOUR day starts to waver, but you still naively cling to the idea that things can continue smoothly. This was that point. In between repeating what seem to be my catch-phrases ("Don't step on the bread! Stop licking your sister's hairbow! No, I don't know what kind of dinosaur you are. Oh, a Velociraptor? Of course! Now, seriously, stop licking her bow....") and attempting to throw enough produce into our cart to ensure we wouldn't need to make another of such trips anytime in the near future...somewhere in that mess, Cal realized his beloved toy was gone and the kid gasped and SHOUTED "HEY!!!! WHERE'S...MY...HOOKER?!?!?!?!?!"


And that was when any false hope of appearing to be Supermom pretty much faded for the day.

The rest of the day didn't fare much better. I rejoiced at the convenience of a drive-through ink cartridge-filling store, then forgot to pick up the cartridge I'd dropped off. I made a blackberry pie, but it ended up a bit too runny. We went to the park and took a long walk around the duck pond, in turn losing track of which lot our car was parked in. I even BBQ'ed chicken on the grill and the propane tank ran out of gas in the middle of cooking!

But the ink cartridge will be there tomorrow (and will save us a few dollars over buying a new one), the pie was delicious with ice cream, the long walk in search of the car was great exercise, and dinner ended up tasting delightfully summery once it was finally cooked. It's days like these, days when all my best laid plans fall apart (and an entire store is left wondering exactly who my son is entertaining in his playroom), when I realize that my aim, like most moms, is often a bit misguided.



A true Supermom is the woman who gets to see her baby girl's face light up as she re-discovers grass or watch her Spiderman-emulating boy scale a playground like he's done it a million times before. Supermom greets her family with a smile, and not necessarily a gourmet meal, and sits on the muddy ground with her brood to poke at a bug with sticks rather than worrying about how dirty their matchy clothes might get.







Supermom doesn't fret about a fussing baby as she's trying to bake- she just finds a convenient place to store her sweet babe and a glob of pie crust dough to entertain her.


And so I resolve to wake up with the same spring in my step as I felt today, and I promise to jump out in the world with a smiling face and some perfectly color-coordinated kiddos, but that smile won't fade when my plans go awry. I'll be the Supermom diggin' in the dirt, taking it all in stride.