My joy in winter

My joy in winter

In the winter, most people suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder. It’s a real thing, and I’ve actually experienced it, I’m sure. But there’s one piece of winter that does everything except make me sad. In the dead of winter 2005, I gave birth to my first love and first child (whom I lovingly call Sassy Pants here), and my life forever changed. She is my joy in winter, and I am ever thankful for her existence.

Way back in 2004, I was literally surprised to find out I was even expecting. We weren’t trying. I was in graduate school. It wasn’t an opportune time. But I firmly believe that He gives us what we need when we need it, and He gave me Sassy Pants.

Her birth story isn’t the most glorious, and in fact of the four kids her literal birth was the most painful. She was “sunny side up,” so even the epidural wasn’t doing what I needed it to do. Add that to some lung issues she had, and I had kind of a whirlwind freaky time bringing her into the world.

After that, we went home to a house that was under construction. My kitchen was in my dining room, and my bedroom was in my living room. Total first-world problem, but I was used to living differently and now there was a baby to take care of.

Friends and the 24 hour news became my midnight feeding buddies. I had no idea how to be a mom. But my baby was gloriously beautiful. And now, she’s 14. Today. January 9. I can’t even express the wow-ness happening in my heart right now.

So, even though my blogging poetry group chose “Winter Blues” as our theme, I have to go a different route and celebrate my first baby.

winter blues poetry for joy in winter

My Joy in Winter

Winter is bleak.
Frozen ponds and
dying grass crunching, sadly,
beneath our overly large, clomping boots.

The sun hides most days.
Winter shadows keep us inside
afraid of freezing winds that
chill us to the bone.

My days are filled with
different sunshine
radiating from your smile.

A blessing, for sure.
Not a surprise,
you were always in my heart.

Brown eyes so big
dimples, sass, smarts
jokes for days.

You “like being rude,”
you said, staring at the big man in the booth behind us
as he tried to eat his dinner with your eyes
boring holes in his back.

Unexpected joy.
The best kind.

Celebrating you isn’t a burden.
You bring warmth and happiness
to the coldest of chilly days.
My joy in winter.

Now read the poems from my bloggy poet friends with the theme, Winter Blues:

Winter Blues” by Karen of Baking in a Tornado

Dark Days of Winter” by Dawn of Cognitive Script

The New Blues” by Diane of On the Border

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