Chilled

My kids joke that I am a vampire because my hands are always ice cold. I think it's because my day job consists of lots and lots of typing and my side piece (she's a foxy minx Dork Designs by Erin) involves my hands constantly moving as well.

It makes me sad though that all winter long all of my loved ones cringe when I got to touch their bare skin with my hands.

I have such a warm heart.

And the weather isn't helping things. This morning the kids and I pulled their winter coats out from where I had hung them up and stuffed them into the back of the foyer closet. It was a sad moment.

Every morning when I wake up I feel so incredibly warm from the inside out like a little coal furnace is puffing away in my center and the heat is just radiating into all of my limbs. My cheeks are rosy and I'm so comfy and happy like a little round bunny tucked away in her den, covered with grass and leaves and straw and dirt. I wrap my arms around the extra pillows on the bed and pull them into me, rubbing my face against the smooth jersey. A ball of complete contentment.

I stretch out one round arm and that incredible happy warmth starts to leave my body, legs straight out, toes pointed, more of it leaves my body in sad wispy threads. By the time I'm up out of bed and ready to go into each bedroom and wake each child for school my hands are already like ice.

And everyone cringes when I go to stir them awake with my chilled fingers.