I always want to love September: it’s my birthday month after all. As a kid I always did, the nerd in me rejoicing in back to school clothes and Trapper-Keeper shopping. September used to symbolize my birthday, the return of hanging out with my friends at school every day and limitless possibilities. I think it’s time to confess though that I fear that adulthood has killed September for me. My Mom, my husband and one of my closest friends are school teachers so now September =stress for my nearest and dearest. This year September meant the introduction to preschool which = never-ending colds, anxious nightmares every night and an exhausted toddler who fights his way through the 5-7 pm hour. In short September sucked but now it’s over and we made it through alive. Survival is always something to celebrate, non?
In October I want to wake up. October means a baking class enticingly entitled “Chocolate for breakfast”, the birthday celebrations of three of my good friends, the arrival of a very special infant, a sing-along with Shakira and two weekend trips. October means Elian’s first Halloween with us, pumpkin carving and watching the neighborhood turn golden with ginkgo leaves.
September I’ll always have a special place for you in my heart but we need to take a break.
October. Here I come.