The Year Without a “Maycember”

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“Maycember” used to be one of my favorite things to playfully complain about. 

Not familiar with “Maycember?” It’s a nod to the fact that the month of May is December the sequel. You only THINK December is the craziest month of the year because it’s just in your face all the time with the decor and weather and holiday tunes on the radio. You’re ready for a bajillion family events, class parties, performances, extra dollars spent, etc. 

May is basically December the repeat – but sneakier. You don’t see it coming with the graduations and Mother’s Day and Teacher Appreciation and recitals and All. The. Things. Hence, “Maycember”. 

In fact, Maycember is so sneaky and comes so quickly that I’ve had a “Maycember” post written in my head for well over a year now. I intended to write about it last year, but, you know, the commitments of May got in the way. 

The post would have been a little snarky, and there would have been a lot of “OMG another spirit day, stop the madness, amiright?” moments. 

But now. Now there is no Maycember to gripe about. And I would do just about anything to get it back. 

I want to go to graduations.

ALL the graduations. I don’t even care if I don’t know a single graduate involved. I want to go and clap and cheer and watch those proud seniors, or 8th graders, or 5th graders, or just WHOEVER has accomplished a thing walk across a stage. I want those families to have those memories and photos to hold dear.

I want to be at the baseball fields. 

I don’t care anymore that signing up for t-ball means signing up for eleventy billion games and practices and too many dinners being eaten in the back of the minivan. I want to do a million loads of laundry and get home late and be worried about sunburns and remembering what day we’re supposed to bring the snack. 

Take me back to the ballgame, put me in coach, and all that jazz. I want the chaos of t-ball schedules back in my life.

I want to go to recitals. 

Just like with graduations, I want to go to ALL of the recitals. I want to giggle with friends as our preschoolers earnestly sing songs they’ve worked so hard on. I want to see the dancers show off what they’ve worked a full year towards. I want to be worried about getting my 6-year-old to all of the extra practices and make sure that I have the bajillion costume pieces she needs ready to go.

I want to witness the tremendous way the teachers who enrich our children’s lives for 9 months wrap up those accomplishments in the most special way. I want to see the glimmer in the eyes of those performers as they take their bows and the curtains close.

Heck, I’ll even go to a squeaky violin recital at this point. Is there a room full of proud parents and grandparents? Take me there.

I want the end of year school stuff.

Teacher appreciation? I’m laying out a red carpet. Spirit days? My kids are there with the craziest of crazy hair. Fun runs? Here’s my money.

I want my preschooler to hug his teacher on the last day of school and for her to help prepare him for the transition into a new classroom in August. I want to go to my kindergartner’s end of year party and see her move up to the big kid hallway with her classmates. I want to go eat muffins with my kids before school. I want to sign reading logs. (Let’s be honest, I want to forget to sign reading logs and text her teacher an apology about it).

I don’t care how crazy or overprogrammed it seems, I’m ready to do it all. 

One of my biggest takeaways of this wild time is that much of what I allowed to cause me stress, also made up the richness of my life. 

I used to think that Maycember mostly meant spending too much money and being stressed out from the craziness of life. 

But I was wrong. May is for loving each other well. May is for standing in rooms, shoulder to shoulder with each other, and applauding. Applauding our kids. Applauding our teachers. Applauding each other.

Maycember 2020, you are dearly missed. More than I’d ever have imagined.

Maycember 2021, I’m all the way here for you. Bring. It. On.

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