The great outdoors, here we come!

Finally! The weather is warming up enough so that we can get outside on an almost-regular basis. Poor Jesse has been cooped up indoors for too long. He'd look out the windows to his backyard playground, then run to the deck door and press his little nose against the glass. I am pretty sure he said "side?" (outside?) as he pointed his little finger and whined to Mommy.

"I'm sorry Jesse," I'd say, "it's too cold to play outside." (But he knows I mean "Mommy gets too cold when she goes outside.") So I've been entertaining him indoors, keeping him busy with trains and trucks and coloring books and sometimes a Thomas or Scooby show. He gets plenty of outside time when we walk to the car to run errands!

The other day I told John I was going to start calling the poor kid "Veal".

The Veal nickname, that's from a tasteless joke I made to a former coworker years ago. It's a long story, but I'll try to put it in a few sentences: This coworker had just bought a dog and she was complaining to me that she felt so bad having to keep him caged during the day while she was at the office. He sat in his cage all day in her basement. The basement was dark--it had a sliding door but not one that faced the sun. The woman worked long hours and if she did get him outside at all, it was after the sun went down. She told me her troubles, to which I said, "Hmmm, maybe you should change his name to Veal?" And to my surprise, she didn't think it was funny! I guess it was partly because she didn't get the joke at first, and partly because it was kind of mean of me to say. In my head, it seemed funny, but once it was out....well, you know.

I felt pretty crummy that day for hurting her feelings, and I told John about it when I got home. But because we have similar senses of humor (one of the many things I love about John), he thought it was hysterical! So Veal became a running joke for us. And fortunately, my coworker got over being insulted. Which was good for me, because she was actually my manager at the time.

So our own little "Veal", almost-2-year-old Jesse, has been very frustrated that Mommy won't take him outside. I just get so cold these days. When I lost my hair to chemo, and my neck and ears were exposed, I would get chilly so easily. Even after treatment, with my hair growing in, I'd still get cold. I still wear a scarf wrapped around my neck most of the winter, even when I'm inside. (Especially when I'm inside! Our house has a draft, I keep telling John.)

I now keep my hair short because I like how it looks and I love how easy it is to take care of. The tradeoff: cold ears, cold neck, cold Mommy who doesn't like to be out when the temp is below 70 degrees.

You wouldn't know I grew up in the north. How do these bald men do it, walking around in the winter with no hat? Even in the almost-spring months, when the sun comes out and it is in the 50s or 60s, I am freezing if there's even a slight breeze or a cloud passing over the sun. I'll borrow Emma's earmuffs, put on my hat, wind my scarf around my neck and try to brave it for the kids. But I don't last long, maybe 20 minutes at most.

It makes me feel horrible, to think that I put my own comfort before my children. But they don't want a popsicle for a mommy, do they?

So I am probably as thrilled as Little Veal....I mean, Jesse....that the temperature has made it to the 70s a few times over the last week or so. I can get the little fella outside more often.

And maybe then I won't have to wipe Jesse's little nose prints off my windows.