Longtime readers of this blog know that I have a complicated love/hate relationship with February. I love it because it is the birth month of my eldest and because it is the final month of winter. I hate it because it...is still winter.
While only containing 28 days vs. 30 or 31, February often feels like the longest month of the year for me; I crave longer days, sunshine, warmer temperatures, sultry nights on the porch, and water (preferably, not in the form of snow), and, feel like February is simply standing in the way of Spring.
Which, I know is ridiculous, and, I own that.
Today is Groundhog Day, and, for only the eighteenth time in 131 years, that damn rodent has predicted an early spring. I am only cautiously optimistic about this turn of events, because, I would not put it past Mother Nature and Old Man Winter to pull a fast one on that oversized rat; most predictably, summoning up a blizzard of epic proportions on March 1st, just as Hugh, the girls, and I are making our way over mountain passes to get to the airport for our flight to Hawaii.
I am crossing my fingers, saying prayers, offering sacrifices (I am foregoing carbs and cheese for the month, in order to fit in my bikini. Hey, it's still a sacrifice!), and generally begging the universe to not let that happen, because, if I can make it through February, I freaking deserve a tropical vacation, damnit.
So, welcome February. Let's get this show on the road.