The screen door slams five, six, seven times an hour. It’ll be on my last nerve by the beginning of July, but for now, the constant in-and-out by my children is Beethoven wafting through the house. Spring is finally–finally–here.
We have a little more than two weeks of school left. It’s been a year, starting out full of energy and hope and ending with us (mostly me) limping toward the last day with one arm outstretched, hoping to cross that finish line even a nanosecond earlier. This was the year I volunteered more than ever before, and it was the one I learned the true meaning of the old phrase about no good deed going unpunished. Spending time with the kids has been wonderful, truly, but also offered an enlightening glimpse into my community from a different perspective; I offer my heartiest congratulations to any teacher who’s not developed a raging alcohol or NyQuil addiction between Labor Day and now. God bless you, my friends. God. Bless. You.
I–a mere unpaid Sherpa with no authority beyond following direction and carrying tasks from here to there–have had flaming darts shot in my direction with shockingly little ceremony five times in the last two days. We’re all in the home stretch, exhausted and smelly and pretty overwhelmed with checks to write and books to return and final exam preparation and those last group projects to finish (tiny note: My 10- and 12-year olds don’t have driver’s licenses) and dear God almighty 10 weeks to fill on our own after that. I get it. And I suppose everybody needs a target. Perhaps I even deserved it–maybe I really suck at this. But wow. The good thing, if there is a good thing, is that it’s going to make stepping away from my donated hours easier.
After 15 years of freelancing and contracting, I’ll return to full-time work this summer as a regular employee of one of my favorite clients. You know how every so often, the sun shines down just right and magic sort of falls in your lap? That’s what this is. A gift. I am excited to begin this new chapter, nervous about how we’ll all adapt, and hoping to figure it all out as so many moms do every day. It’s been a fantastic ride the last decade and a half, but it’s time. I’m ready–we’re ready–and very thankful.
I am also hoping to write here more regularly. Food, sure–heaven knows I love my food. But also share random posts about family and life and work and flaming darts (I believe there’s a wait list at this point). We’ll see what happens.
Happy spring, y’all. I wish you many slams of the screen door in the coming weeks. Sunscreen and flip-flops and drippy ice cream cones. Less stress; more grass stains. Flak jackets as needed (I may invest).
See you soon…