Yet another harbinger of spring...

The harvesting of the frozen-and-thawed dog turds. I'm sure this same ritual is being performed in back yards all across my neighborhood, if not all across the country. The dog seems to approve of this process. Her favorite dumping ground over the winter has been, it seems, my (former) herb garden. Keeping the kids from trampling my herbs had taken Herculean effort; trying to keep the dog out would take my last ounce of sanity. I think I'll roto-till it up and plant some grass...I can admit when I've been defeated.
I've been noticing other signs of spring around as well. Most visibly- MUD. Most of our yard is ankle-deep under water, and the dog has trampled down all of the grass, so there is plenty of mud to be tracked in to the house by canine and children alike. The kids have been going through at least two changes of pants per day, as a result of not "seeing" the mud before they ran through it/jumped in it/fell in it. Riding one's bike through muddy puddles leaves a lovely trail up the back of one's jacket, as well. Because this is still transitional weather, each of the five children has no fewer than five jackets in active rotation right now. They also have (shockingly clean) mud boots, snow boots, and several pairs of wet and muddy shoes a piece in the front entryway. We have large piles of muddy towels by each door, as a vain attempt to try to de-mud the dog every time she comes in. That there is a whole lot of muddy items to have to deal with every day.

Transitional weather means having double the normal amount of kid-stuff out at any time. I already mentioned all the coats and shoes. It's somewhat disconcerting to have both wool mittens and flip-flops in active rotation in the front hall closet. Our front yard still has a half-dozen sleds left out in it, plus our collection of snow fort block makers and leftover snowman appendages, as well as a good number of "lost" hats and mittens. Now the kids are layering all that junk with bikes, scooters, street hockey sticks, and soccer balls. In addition to hollering,"Whose mittens are these?" I also have to holler, "Who left their bike helmet on the dining room table?"