May has always been a busy month, at least in American culture. It’s gotten to the point the hubbub of Spring, Mothers Day, graduation, sports, festival, et al now commands its own term–Maycember.
Much like the month of December, my packed calendar at the end of the school year has left me feeling like there’s not so much joy, as obligation and overwhelm. Instead of cruising into summer with a sense of relief, I’m sweating my way to the finish line—and possibly crying and stress snacking at certain points, too.
It’s hard to relish in the moments and milestones when your to-do list is longer than your kids’ Christmas lists. I’m always thinking about the next function I have to attend, or person to remember to call, or thing to book, or buy.