Oh, May

In one month and four, maybe five days, we move.  Our manifest destiny, at least for now, appears not to be to go west, young man, but to go east.  And so we shall.

Until then, however, we are cramming as much into this month as we possibly can.  If you have school-aged kids then you know that May already tends to present itself as a scheduling hellscape with its incessant concerts and field trips and dress up days and special, end-of-year events that for some reason all need cookies/napkins/specific clothing.  It's around all of that that we are trying to see as many people as humanly possible before we leave:  friends, family, everyone.  We have no idea when we will see many of these people again, so the pressure to have the conversations, eat the meals together, squeeze our loved ones one more time is very real.

It sounds kind of like we're dying, doesn't it?  Like we're marching our family onto the Titanic, steerage class, no doubt, which the movie portrayed as a rambunctious but fun-loving place to be with its camaraderie and choreographed dancing but which I would have to think was actually very smelly.

When I get too mopey I sometimes indulge these feelings but am also just as likely to mentally take myself by the shoulders, give them a brisk shake, and say, "For Pete's sake, it's not like you're dying!"  The unfortunate part of this is that my facial expressions tend to mirror my internal dialogue so if you've seen me grimacing during my runs or walks lately, it's not you; it's me, talking to me.  It's me times two.  Best to just walk right by like you haven't seen anything, unless you want to be roped into an impromptu therapy session.  Up to you.

The benefit to all this is that it's forced me out of my fortress of solitude and into the company of people that, oh yeah, I really enjoy!  If you've been trying to improve your hostessing skills and get out of your own comfort zone, my advice is to move across the country.  You won't have time to worry about how clean your house is or if the snacks you're serving are just right, but possible negative side effects of this include your new penchant for saying things like, "Well, if you don't like it at least you may never have to see me again, right?" followed quickly by "I'm just kidding!" in response to the stricken look on your friends' faces.

I'm bringing this sensational mental state to southeast Kansas soon, because we get to celebrate my grandpa's 90th birthday!  We'll also get to eat one of my favorite food combinations (coleslaw with German potato salad, must be mixed together in a 1:1 ratio), see nieces and sisters and grandparents, and visit a humongous steam shovel, because that's what passes for a tourist attraction in Kansas.