There’s something about May in the Park Cities that feels a little … unhinged.
It’s like we all collectively decide to pack an entire year’s worth of emotions, events, outfit changes, and photo opportunities into a three-week window and then act surprised when we’re exhausted.
Graduation season is here.
And if you’re a parent, you’re not just attending it, you’re managing it.
Because let’s be honest, this whole thing doesn’t start with high school. We’ve been training for this moment since preschool.
I still remember those first tiny cap-and-gown ceremonies. At the time, I thought, this is adorable … and also slightly dramatic for a group of 4-year-olds who still need help opening their snacks. But even then, there was that little thought in the back of my mind: one day this is going to be a much bigger deal.
Turns out, that voice was right.
By elementary school, we’ve fully entered the era of “extra.” Parades, car decorating, coordinating t-shirts, it’s a whole production. I spent an impressive amount of time making sure our car looked just right … only for my daughter to hop into someone else’s because, apparently, theirs was better.
Nothing builds character like losing your own child to a more festive SUV.
Middle school graduation? Blink and you might miss it. It’s like everyone collectively agreed to take a breather before things got real.
And then … high school.
This is where it all shifts. One minute you’re juggling schedules and trying to remember where you parked, and the next you’re watching your child walk across a stage thinking, how did we get here and why am I suddenly crying in public?
And just when you think you’ve pulled yourself together, college drop-off.
You’re excited. They’re excited. This is what you’ve been working toward. And yet, somewhere between unloading the car and making the bed, it hits you: this isn’t temporary.
I remember thinking, I’m fine. I’ve got this.
I did not, in fact, have this.
So as I look ahead to a May next year with both a high school and a college graduation, I’m trying to be a little wiser this time around.
Here’s what I’ve learned.
First, clear your schedule as if your life depends on it. If it’s not directly related to your child or their celebrations, it can wait. May will fill itself up without your help.
Second, let go of perfection. There will always be a better car, a better photo, a better-dressed group. Your kid will remember how you showed up, not how your decorations stacked up.
And third, this one matters the most, don’t try to power through the emotions.
I made the mistake of staying busy and telling myself I’d deal with it later. And I did … just not at a convenient time. Those feelings have a way of showing up whether you make space for them or not.
So feel it while it’s happening. The pride, the excitement, the lump in your throat that sneaks up on you.
Because graduation isn’t just their milestone.
It’s ours too.
It’s the realization that all those ordinary days, carpool lines, packed lunches, reminders shouted from the kitchen actually added up to something pretty extraordinary.
So yes, May may feel like a sprint you didn’t train for.
But if you can, slow it down just enough to take it in.
Laugh at the chaos.
Let go of the pressure.
And don’t miss it.
Martha Jackson, host of The Bubble Lounge Podcast, has lived in University Park for 20 years. She’s passionate about connecting with fellow moms, supporting local businesses, and finding humor in the chaos. You can find her at bubblelounge.net and on Instagram @bubbleloungepodcast.
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