Here I am, sitting on a mustard bedspread, thinking about the Mays in my future
Ah, May. The busiest month outside of December, full of graduations and weddings, parties and thank yous, goodbyes and tournaments, fundraisers and performances. May equals the last wave of school-related everything until we meet again in August. May brings the final burst of chaos before a much-needed re-charge.
If you see me make this face this month, it is because May feels frantic. Because May means Who is in charge of the cupcakes and Why did I bring pink birthday napkins to a graduation party? It is me kicking myself, again, for not buying enough gift cards.
May is also full of fun things. It is sunset selfies, bathing suit diets, and the chocolate bar I accidentally just ate for breakfast. May is the beginning of longer days, sand in the sheets, grilled everything, and flip flop tans. This baby knows that May is essentially good and so when the camera is focused elsewhere, she bows her chubby-cheeked bed head, touching her triple chin to her fuzzy blue baby shirt, and says, Thank you, May, for being you.
But then, the alarmed expression returns, because May feels overwhelming. May is out with the old, in with the new, but “the new” signifies change, which is exciting, but also scary. May is overanalyzing every decision that got us to this moment. May makes this baby need a nap, and also, a vacation.
So much happens in this month with only three letters in it’s name! It’s a lot of pressure to be May. May must be ready to pass the baton to June, but June is still hiding behind the 7-11, saying NO, DUDE, IT’S NOT MY SHIFT YET. Hang in there, May. You’re almost there and you can do this. So can this baby. She might look a little freaked out, but she’ll get there.