May-cember.

Or, “all the chaos of Christmas, none of the twinkle lights,” as one website described it.

I don’t know how long this term has been around, but I only heard it recently.

Since we don’t really celebrate Christmas or the holiday season in general anymore, I think we have more of a Decemb-May than a May-cember. Whichever. Whatever. The sentiment is the same: all the chaos.

This year’s usual chaos has been amped up by Senior year finalities, proms, award ceremonies, and all the other festivities that go along with high school graduation. I have been perpetually caught between trying to savor these last few moments and just wanting it all to be over and done with already.

I also can’t forget that this is also officially our last year of middle school, and everyone in our house is eager to close that chapter. I think most people who have experienced the gauntlet of elementary school through high school will tell you that middle school is the worst, and I am firmly on that bandwagon.

I remember how grateful I was to be finished with the elementary school years, because it meant that all three kids would be going to the same campus at the same time.

Then, I was grateful that the kids participated in many of the same after school activities and their schedules really lined up nicely.

Then, having a student driver in the house was a final game changer in simplifying things.

Now, I’m honestly a little excited to have one driver for two kids to one campus, with relatively streamlined activities.

Of course, the part of me that was stressed out between two nondriving participants and one driver whose activities suddenly required my presence toward the end of the year will now be stressing out about A’s college life next year, but all things considered, I think I’m still going to come out ahead.

As I did the ironing this week, it dawned on me that I’m going to cut my ironing pile by a third next year, down to 10 uniforms a week from 15.

On top of that, A has always preferred to wear a button-down dress shirt rather than the polo shirt alternative, which take forever to iron. Sometimes, when I’m really organized, I actually manage to get the polo shirts out of the dryer on time and hang them up. If I plan right, I might even end up with some free time next year.

If all of this sounds like maybe I’m just a little too eager to be closing the door on this chapter, for both A and me, well, I am. I know A is, as well. It eases a lot of my guilt to know that he is ready to move forward.

While E is slightly less enthusiastic about starting her high school career than A is about starting his collegiate one, she at least has the sense of accomplishment that she survived these challenging few years. At the very least, I don’t think high school smells quite as badly as middle school does.

I keep asking myself how this all would be different if Steve was still here, partly because it’s just what I do all the time about everything, but also because I’m trying to keep things as celebratory as they should be.

A has worked his tail off and he is coming across the finish line with a ton of achievements and accolades. Part of me knows that this is the kid he’s always been, but he’s also been more determined to succeed since Steve’s death. Framing all that he has accomplished within the loss of his father may have given him that extra boost he needed to be accepted at a highly competitive college. Then again, it may not have. Who is to say?

People have frequently commented that I must be so proud of my kids’ accomplishments. Of course, there is some pride. Mostly, I am proud of them for not cracking under the burdens that life has placed on them, for their work ethic, and for staying true to the people that they’ve always been inside.

That pride, however, is buried under layers and layers of relief that I didn’t screw them up too badly, at least not so far. Relief that they’ve managed to stay on the tracks that they were on before Steve died. Relief that I only have to get through this whole graduation process two more times without him standing by my side, enjoying our children’s accomplishments. Relief that if I survive it one time, I will probably be able to get through it again.

May-cember is rapidly coming to an end, both the current May-cember, and the May-cember that I feel like our lives have been stuck in since January 2022. Our family dynamic and pace are going to change again, but this time, it won’t be unexpected. It will be for a good reason, and we can prepare ourselves for it. It will be the natural progression of things, the way they’re supposed to be. I’m sure there will be more bumps in the road because nothing ever goes quite according to plan.

First though, we will have Jun-ly-gust. That’s what the next not quite three months are going to feel like. We have so much we want to do, so much we want to not do, and just chill. By the time September rolls around, May-cember will be a distant memory. Hopefully, it’s a good one.

Liz Pinkey’s column appears Saturdays in the Times News.