It really is one of life's great ironies that Mother's Day falls squarely in the middle of May. When no mother ON EARTH has time to take a day off to do anything. Now, don't get me wrong. I like cards and presents just as much as the next girl, but seriously, any other month would be better. The week before Christmas would be better. We hear all the time about how busy the holidays are, how stressful, etc. That's for everyone involved in the retail business. Everyone involved in the parent business knows that May is the busiest, most stressful time of the year.
Every special occasion, dance, concert, band clinic, band tryout, tennis clinic, tennis lesson, and any extracurricular activity you can think of falls in May. Because God forbid we spread it out. No, no. We've got to get our testing in. I feel like we haven't been home in months. And I'm tired. So tired. And doesn't it always just seem like there's one more little hiccup to make May busier? The in-laws drop in (for a three day stay), a friend has knee surgery (and I love to cook), the college-aged son is back in town (with all of the weird negotiation over limits that that entails), or a beloved mother's home must be sold (in another town). Each of these are things we each take on with joy and dignity and grace, but isn't it odd how these additional blessings/burdens always seem to come in May? Maybe it's God's way of making summer that much more of a relief.
And this is where it really gets weird. I was a teacher for so long that I learned to look only toward summer for my freedom and release. If I can just make it to Spring Break. . .if I can just make it to TAKS. . . if I can just make it to Memorial Day. . . only three days left!!!! Only now, with a full year of home-working under my belt, it suddenly seems weird that my days are going to get fuller. As in, there will be more people in them. And more things to do. I haven't decided whether that's a good thing or not.
But I'll tell you what is a good thing. Vegetables. And canning. Today's harvest includes: 8 tomatillos, a dozen assorted peppers, and the year's first cucumbers. Three of them turned out great. Two of them look like alien heads. Perhaps for them, relish. Off to can.