I took this picture a while back. Last summer to be exact. It was a carefree day and we were riding bikes in the park. There was very little on the agenda except perhaps peanut butter sandwiches by the pool. Bliss.
We came upon this leaf just hanging in the middle of the path. Holding on for dear life, I assume. I loved the way Erin was watching this little leaf just hanging on by a thread. She was mesmerized by its fragile state.
It reminded me of something, but I wasn’t quite sure of what it was at the time. A memory? A feeling? A horror movie? I couldn’t quite place it.
And now I remember. It was May. It reminded me of May. The entire crazy, ridiculous, insane, overbooked, over-extended, deadline induced, nutty month of May. There is entirely too much to do and not near enough time to get it all done.
I feel like the leaf. I’m barely hanging on. I’m one strong gust away from disaster.
You know what I mean. We’re all in the same boat. This brilliant lady says it best.
I am just done. Sometime over the last week I seem to have switched to survival mode. There is a constant pile of clean clothes that need folding and dirty ones that need washing. This time of year school uniforms can be pulled from either pile. I don’t really care, so long as everyone has something to wear out the door.
I’m over making lunches too. I pack the same darn thing every day now, and haphazardly at best. One day last week three of the four lunches were missing items. One had no drink, one had no fork, and one had no fruit. I could excuse it by saying I was too busy going through homework folders and signing agendas, but that would be a lie. I looked back in shame to see I hadn’t signed Erin’s agenda since April 7. April !!! That was nearly preseason, for heaven’s sake!
Today I worked was field day, tomorrow I will serve ice cream to sweet second graders, and next week we’ll prepare for and celebrate Emily’s 8th grade graduation. Relatively quiet compared to the last couple weeks. The to do lists are winding down.
I do, however, still need to send in my contribution to the teachers’ end of the year gift fund. And that is the one deadline I will be sure not to miss. I only wish I could meet it with a larger check with way more zeros. There is no more deserving group of people than those that teach our kids, put up with us slacker parents and our “May brains”, and keep our little people engaged and happy until the very last day of school.
Even those that may come to school in a dirty uniform.
I’ll be good to go again come August. Or maybe even June.
I promise. I hope.