Nope, I’m not typing the word “marathon” in southern drawl above. I’m purposefully typing “MAY-rathon” because that’s what most people around me are running right now.
May.rathon.
Oh May, May. Whilst you bring sunshine and roses, usher in the unicorn known as summer break, and placate us with your mildish weather before the firey hell of July–I’ve just got to tell you that you sort of wear.us.out.
I mean, it’s not YOU, May, it’s me. Well, not just me. It’s all the other mothers who are dragging tails sporting drooping eyelids and bags for days–and not just under eye bags but book bags and end of the year gift bags and dancing bags and baseball bags, too. It’s the teachers too, who are at this point sort of glorified babysitters because most of the content has been taught and these kids that made us mothers are wild as a pack of untamed monkeys that got aholt of a case of Red Bulls and pixie sticks. Yes, that bad and that wild. I’m sorry teacher friends, I really am, but I gots to make the most of my ME time that I have left for the foreseeable future, so I’m sending my monkeys on in…And if I’m being fair, those monkeys are pretty darn tired too, what with bedtimes that sprang forward when the clocks did, and sun still shining late at night that beckons them outdoors, and brains fried and malnutrition-ed courtesy of atrocious diets because their mama can.not.for.the.life.of.them.pack.another.dadgum.lunchbox with any sort of nutritional value. Recently a girlfriend posted the funniest meme of a May lunchbox that consisted of a raw potato, a carrot, assorted Taco Bell sauces, and some dog biscuits. I appreciated the meal idea. When I recreate that lunch (because forget the pinterest board of lunchbox ideas from this past August), I’ll probably throw in a packet of soy sauce from the Chinese takeout (I ain’t cooking dinner neither!) we recently had to add some sodium to replenish the depletion from sweating while running the Mayrathon. (I replenish mine with the salt on the rim of a margarita glass. Just sayin’– and you teachers might want to, too.) Shoot, they probably would be fine with a bunch of bananas–they are monkeys, after all.
I know now why the creators of Mother’s Day slapped it in the middle of the May. It’s ’cause we need it. Mother’s Day is a guaranteed nap day (at least in this casa) and the shut-eye couldn’t be more welcomed. While the nap is crucial to continue the race, the sweet platitudes and coupons for foot rubs and hand made gifts with priceless price tags also help to encourage us to finish the drill. We need the boost and it’s like an energy gel pack and a banana all in one. This race is almost over…
We are not okay, May.
May brings graduations and end of the year parties and all those kinds of celebrations. With celebrations comes gifts, which are fun and all, but I’ll be darned if my looks have bought a one of them. My Venmo account hasn’t seen this much action since, well, last May, and my wallet is legit anorexic. In fact, I got an email from my bank that suggested I go back to work and make some income to put into our account to help my poor, stressed out, self-employed hubby replenish the well. (Let me know if y’all know of something.)
May also means school is almost out for the summer. While my pack of wild primates are excited as can be, I’m getting a little nervous and my heart starts beating a little faster when I think I have to get to be home with them all summer. My two females have been at each other’s necks as of late and I don’t know how I’m going to do it. The oldest has the attitude and eye rolling down pat and the middle one just rides around on her Sanctimony Pony and is determined to get the last word. If they don’t kill each other before school dismisses, we’re in for a long, hot, cat fighting summer. Or maybe they’ll just act like monkeys and throw poop at each other. (Hell, maybe they’re already doing that?) I’ll be re-reading my mother’s day cards frequently to remind me that I actually do like those little wild cats, (and pray that come August they won’t be quite as feral) and cashing in some coupons for foot rubs…
(My bank may be on to something–might be time to revisit the resume and reboot the Linked In account.)
As we are approaching the final stretch, please know that any crankiness that comes from me is not about you at all. It’s because I despise running. But let’s keep on running this with endurance, slow twitch muscles engaged, and once we are done with this race, it’ll all be better, friends. I’ll be better, you’ll be better, and the monkeys will too. Hopefully. If they don’t eat all the bananas before the cramps kick in…
We just May make it after all.
P.S. I heard the zoo was hiring…need to add “Primate Keeper” and “Animal Nutrition” to the resume.
Daily Parrscription 