Me versus June

Each spring I have great intentions.  I will sow garden plants from seed.  I will transfer all of the seasonal clothing and purge the unwanted items.  I will complete a thorough spring cleaning.  I will handcraft meaningful end-of-year teacher gifts.  I will be so awesome.

And then it is May.  Forget the clever seed starting newspaper pots on Pinterest, just stop by the local nursery and drop 75 bucks on plants and dirt.  Unload the 50 pound bags of soil from the car via wheelbarrow and drop it by the raised beds in the backyard.  I can’t see the summer tote at first glance when I pop my head up in the attic, so we’re stuck with the few t-shirts on hand that never made it to the summer box last season.  Notice during laundry that teenaged daughter is chopping last fall’s must have jeans into too-short shorts anyway.  Forget spring cleaning.  The dog is shedding.  No sense in that.  Teacher gifts?  Oh, I have plenty of time for that.

June.  June arrives with arrogance.  June doesn’t just challenge the busy mom, she raises the ante to “I bet I can kick you so hard you can’t get up.”  Bring it, my old friend.  I know your M.O.  I will not go down without a fight.  My plight is often laughable.  Planting my tomato plants in the community garden after church in my skirt, barefoot and sinking in the sludge.  Plants.  In.  Done, June!  Summer tote: check.  Yes, it’s in the middle of the dining room and the kids are charged to dig in to find clothes daily, but that counts.  Spring cleaning…well, that may have to wait.  Teacher gifts?  I have plenty of time until the last day of school.

I may have gotten cocky with the glow of my early battle win.  She is gaining on me and I’m starting to weaken.  Yes, I can produce the slide show of the 5^th grade class memories for the last day of school.  How hard can that be?  You take 1,000 submitted digital photos, edit and sort them, couple them with meaningful music, and put it in a slideshow.  I am taking a class in that anyway, it shouldn’t be hard. 

Is June kicking me when I’m down again?  I will not let that happen.  Crazy hair day at school?  I got this.  Some supergel and 10 minutes of twisting spikes.  Strawberry picking season is almost over?  Kids, get in the car…now.  We have to go to the fields.  Children’s day program at church is the same day as the annual boy scout trip to Six Flags?  Of course it is.  Bring it.  We’ll do both.  I got this!  Father’s Day: crap.  Quicky add text and a cute quote to a three-generation image and print one hour at Rite Aid: done.  Fifth grade concert.  Wipe son’s tears from disappointment over not having a solo.  High school concert.  Wipe own tears in realization that this may be her last.  Birthday snack at school.  Flag Day Celebration.  Field Day.  Call Gram on her 86^th birthday.  Chat a while.  She forgets my kids’ names and cries because of it.   

Make it to god-son's tball game.  He sits in the outfield and picks at his shoelaces.  Yells to me in the stands, "Hi, Aunt Amy!"  Make it to god-daughter’s softball play off game.  It’s pouring.  Six of us eat cheese fries huddled under one umbrella.  She feels our eyes on her.  She loves having a cheering section.  I love that she loves having us.

Kids are sick of me saying I really have to do my homework tonight.  I’m sick of saying hurry up or we’re going to be late.  It is the 11^th hour and I’m pulling all-nighters to complete daily tasks.  Perhaps I should take a vitamin.  I can’t find them.  Add “clean out medicine cabinet” to spring cleaning to-do list.  I eat one of son’s gummi vitamins.

Driving son to school, thoughts are like trapped fireflies in a mason jar, so many lighting at once and then going out.  I can’t wait for this school year to be over, I burst out.  Really, mom?  Cause I’m kinda sad about it.  It’s my last year of elementary school.  I’m three-fourths bitter and one-fourth sweet.  Sigh.  She did it.  June got me.

It is June 24^th.  School is out.  I tucked my 10-year-old in and fell asleep beside him.  Daughter got dropped at sleepaway camp this morning.  I hugged her a dozen times at dropoff.  And she let me.  The dirt still sits in bags next to the raised beds.  The teachers all received homemade origami lotus flowers handmade by my son.  Perfect.

I’m just not going to keep score with June anymore.

I need a name.

I told Bill I needed a name for my blog. It was a weeknight and the kids were busying themselves in their rooms while we sat on the couch, me with my laptop obsessively toggling between my facebook newsfeed and my ESC course schedules, and he coasting through all seven of our tv channels.  Brief stop on a crime show: "How about something with nano in the name?" he suggested. "Nah, but thanks." I had captured his attention, but he was still fixed on the flatscreen. A different crime show: "How about port poems - like a computer port." Hmmm, he's getting creative on me now! I checked - that name was taken.  We instinctively sidebarred into our standard Forrest Gump re-enactment. "Ya can't sit heah. This seat's taken!"  Movie quotes are a frequent occurrence in my house. 

I played ZONE for 37 points in Words with Friends. He settled on a recorded SNL. "Nano narrations is good," he offered. He was stuck on nano.  "Nah, but thanks." I reviewed the schedules for my courses again.  I was getting tired so reading would be tough.  I made a commitment to complete at least a little bit of coursework every day this semester, so this blog had to get created.  I searched Pinterest for some summer skirt sewing patterns.  I want to sew this weekend, I thought.  Oh, inspirational quotes - I love them.  There are a lot on Pinterest.  Makes me want to be motivated to get my degree finished.  I checked to see if my friend had taken her turn in Words with Friends.  An X on a triple letter, nice.  Sigh.  "I can't think of a name!"  SNL was over.  Bill started rattling off computer terms. Byte. Pixels. Monitor. Resolution. "Resolution, I like. It's a play on words." I typed it in my google box. Dictionary.com. A resolve or determination. Yeah, that's perfect!  He was talking about the screen image, obviously - but it was pretty cool we were speaking the same language.  Relative Resolution.  I like it. 

Relative Resolution will consist of stories about my days as they have recently changed entirely in composition.  I worked in a cubicle for thirteen years before my reckless resignation six months ago.  It was a "good" job, but I hated it.  I am presently working toward a degree in English literature in anticipation of pursuing a Master of Arts in Teaching.  Yes, I'm 37 years old and I quit my job to go back to school to become a high school English teacher.  The more I say and write that, the less crazy is its impact.  So for now I am a substitute teacher, part-time church secretary, CDL student - all the while raising two adolescents.  So, yeah, there are many stories to tell.