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After the winter of our discontent, the spring of our anxiety is upon us. Between now and Memorial Day weekend, you will chaperone field trips, pack several brown bag lunches, apply sunscreen to children you don’t know all that well at field day, and wonder how the H-E-Double Hockey Sticks it is already so dang warm out when you *just* turned the heat off last week. You will organize and purchase and venmo for teacher gifts and coaches gifts and you will attend some sort of moving up ceremony. You will sign up on the sign up genius.

 

Listen. It gets crazy this time of year. The days are long - and feel even longer if you are doing kid-pitch baseball b/c those innings take f-o-r-e-v-e-r. But it won’t last. It never does. And soon, so soon, there will be one of those nights where you leave your late meeting or Acme and you’ll walk outside at dusk and it will feel like summer. The winter of our discontent will be a memory, as will the spring of our anxiety. And all that will lie ahead is the summer of our restoration, where the rosé is cold and there is no homework. 

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