APRIL is the cruelest month?

T.S. Eliot's poem, The Wasteland, famously opens:

APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.

But I think he got it wrong--for two reasons. One is that it's pretty clear Eliot never lived in Michigan. Because if he'd made it through the six months of the weather that is late fall and winter here; if he'd lived through October, November, December, January, February and March while only seeing brilliant sunsine for eight days total; if he'd shoveled snow every single day for two weeks straight, or bundled two preschoolers into hats, coats, scarves, mittens, snowpants and boots, only to have to take them to the potty immediately thereafter and then re-dress them; if he'd done all this and then stepped outside one April day to find warm tendrils in the breeze and buds on the lilacs...he would have blessed April as the kindest month of all twelve.

But the other reason is that I'm pretty sure Eliot didn't have to live through October in academia. I don't exactly know why October is so difficult, but it never fails, every year, to be hands-down the cruelest month I have to deal with.

In this particular October, I have done the following:

* written one sabbatical proposal (21 pages)
* written two conference proposals
* written one small grant proposal
* planned the teaching schedule for the coming academic year (19 faculty x 3 classes each x two semesters, multiplied by various idiosyncratic needs in terms of times of day and courses available to be taught, compounded by the needs of the program to offer a particular range of courses at certain times of day equals exponential quantities of headache)
* planned a series of curriculum meetings
* made a ghost costume
* learned to be an "art mom" at school
* supervised the school Halloween party
* dressed the children in Halloween costumes FIVE times for different parties and events ("I changed my mind; I don't want to be a pirate today; I want to be a cowboy, and I want to wear THE SAME THING she is wearing!" -- which is, of course, impossible because (a) SHE is wearing it; and (b) it is three sized too small for HIM)
* carved five pumpkins
* removed all 24 doors from the kitchen cupboards, cleaned the kitchen like there was no tomorrow, primed and painted the walls and all the woodwork and cabinets (no, we haven't re-hung the cabinet doors yet)
* made a series of paper mache balls, in scale to each other, so that Son could build a Solar System Project (not an assignment at school, just something he wants to do for fun)

All of this on top of the normal things that happen in my day-to-day life, such as working at a full-time teaching job, trying to remember which of the three books that come home each week with Son are due back at school on this particular day (yes, each goes back to school on a different day), doing laundry, and remembering which week Daughter's ballet class has been switched to another location (yes, I got it wrong one week, and we missed class).

I do realize that I didn't have to pick this month to take on the kitchen project, but in that deceptive way that September has of seducing you with its crisp back-to-school-ness, I thought way back then that it would be fun! and satisfying! to finally get the kitchen that light and airy blue color I'd been dreaming of. I totally forgot, back when we bought the paint at the end of September, that every single deadline in the academic year comes in October, and that there might be a few other things going on as well.

And so here I am on the last day of October, feeling as if I've been living the last month at warp speed. I have raked and painted, sewn and graded, emailed and negotiated, presented art and put little girl hair up into the sweetest pink bun warmer you ever saw. I have mailed birthday presents and helped plan the neighborhood Halloween cookout.

But I have not managed to get Aunty a picture of Daughter in the sweet little hairdo because I haven't been able to find four minutes to rub together to devote to downloading photos from my camera.

Today, I took the last photo my TWO GIG flash drive will hold. I have been deleting the bad photos like a maniac every time we go anywhere, so that I have space to take more photos, since I haven't had time to download what is now about 500 pictures -- many of which have already been culled to remove the junk.

My blog reader has 880 posts in it.

I'm not complaining, honest. Just marveling that I've made it through October in one piece without losing my mind. I swear November has to be easier (if for no other reason than that the kitchen is nearly done). I might even be able to find time to write a blog post occasionally.

...as soon as I finish copy-editing my manuscript, running those curriculum meetings I scheduled, grading the most recent stack of papers, and figuring out what we're doing for Thanksgiving...

I hope your Halloween was as fun-filled as ours, and your family busy-ness is full of joyful commotion.