I can't take down the Christmas tree(s)

Man, for real. Can't touch 'em. One reason is that I love plugging them in at night and basking in their warm glow and thinking that even the mountain of toys plugging up an entire wall of our wee living room doesn't look so awful in that lighting. But the main reason is that when they go down, I concede. I concede that the shit-tastic part of the year begins.

People, I live in central Wisconsin. Have you been? Most of the time, it's pretty lovely, in my opinion. But not in January, February, or March. And April kind of sucks too, except by then I at least have hope. Now, don't get me wrong, I love the changing seasons. They mark my life and each has their own eagerly anticipated traditions. I'm not particularly addicted to warm weather or particularly opposed to cold weather. I like snow, when it's actually falling and when it is prettily coating things. I just hate the gray. And after the Christmas tree is down, it becomes gray.

You see, I do not live in the land of extracurricular activities for mom + babe. There is no kindermusik or whatever the hell that thing is I read of people attending. There are no movie theaters with mom/kid friendly showings. There are no YMCAs or local gyms or children's museums or interesting clubs to join. No. There is a convenience store, a post office, and many, many taverns. Now, the majority of the year this suits me just fine and as a whole, I thoroughly enjoy our choice of homeland. I can occupy us out of doors without some annoying leader telling me what to do with my kid. We can take mega super power walks. We can go to the park. We can get dirty in the yard. We can find someplace to pick some produce. People do manage to muster up little weekend festivals and events that don't always suck, and there are things that can be done. But this time of the year is rather dreary for probably the majority of northerners, and it is especially dreary, I suspect, where there are so few diversions. And such a complete lack of excess cash. Sure, I can occasionally bundle Phook up and haul her around on the sled, but it's not the same as being outside 4 hours per day. And, quite frankly, it can be a pain in the ass. Once you start off with the kid on that sled, you had better be prepared to be a sled dog until your spine is shredded, and even then it will be highly "disappointing" when it is time to come in.

So here we are. Phook is a toddler prone to boredom this year instead of a perma-suckling 4-month-old. Now, there are some moms I get together with on occasion and I suspect those activities will pick up again now that we're all going to be hitting the post-holiday skids. So there's that. But beyond that outlet I am really struggling. I suspect we will have to plan some outings somewhere beyond my prenatal visits, but it really is a challenge to think of things that are a) affordable b) reasonable day trips and c) affordable. I think we'll go visit Auntie Hode once or twice just for a change of scenery. But man, I can feel my flu coming back just contemplating February.

On a personal preservation note, I am looking into some exercise class options. I just got myself enrolled in a "gentle yoga" class twice per week that is half an hour away in the evenings for 6 weeks. I also found that water aerobics are offered at this pool half an hour away in the opposite direction, also two nights per week, but I can't get the dicks to return my calls to see what the deal is. I'd really prefer the water aerobics, as water tends to be therapeutic for my various maladies. But yoga starts Tuesday, so if I don't hear back from the water dorks by then, yoga it is. So there is that. I suspect it will help me not go quite so insane. It costs $50 for the class and I kind of want to cry about that, but an insane Big W is one hot mess, let me tell you, and everyone in this house seeks to avoid such a situation at any remotely reasonable cost.

But, hell. I am just dreading the next several months of pregnant supervision of an antsy, opinionated toddler in a tree-less holding cell. Perhaps it is bad form to pre-depress myself like this, but I'm just feeling irritated that once again it is dark and gray and I can do nothing to make the tulips come up. Survival is of course the only option. But I don't have to like it.