Wednesday, June 11, 2014

June Bug

When the ultrasound technician blew my mind and told me I had a daughter on the way, I was fully prepared to name her. In the interest of polite conversation as she printed our photos, the tech asked if sister had a name yet. I proudly proclaimed Nora June. After sharing the news and introducing the soon-to-arrive newest member of the bunch, about 80% of my friends and family raised an eyebrow at her middle name {and I think the other 20% were just humoring me}.

"Isn't she due in July?"

She was most definitely due in July with zero guarantee that she'd arrive early enough for her given name to make any sense. Still, I insisted. Her middle name was June. Today I'm here to talk about why.

Between June 1 and June 30 every single year, I come alive. June is my month. I celebrate the anniversary of my life, the anniversary of my family, and the time of year that Mother Nature gives me exactly what I want. The sky stays awake until well after bedtime, giving my husband and me time to sneak out to the garden and search for baby tomatoes, dig around the squash, or just sit on the backyard swing and listen to the crickets. She shows off with her extravagant colors, from the shocking blue hydrangea blooms to the bright yellow cucumber flowers that climb along the cattle panel trellis. The sky and clouds contrast like never before and boisterous thunderstorms give way to the most electric shade of green ever to grace the backyard. White skin freckles fast, watermelons take up too much room in the fridge, and you can smell the honeysuckle from a mile away. And this feeling is not something I wanted to keep to myself.

That's why my Nora is Nora June, and it seems as though this one is taking after her mom. She has fully embraced the joy of her first summer, happy to be outside every chance she gets. Her chubby legs kick wildly when her brothers push her swing higher than it should go, and her little nose scrunches into the picture of pure joy. She'll sit on the grass as long as you let her, picking it out blade by blade and taking a taste every so often. She'll reach out and pet the green bean plants if she's sitting close enough, and watch closely as my fingers disappear beneath the soil. Temper tantrums are quickly calmed by a rock on the front porch swing, and the breeze in the trees makes for the perfect lullaby. My family first began to grow on a sunny June day and it {more than likely, no promises yet} is going to end with June, as well. Maybe that helps her middle name make a little more sense.

Also, Nora July doesn't quite have the same ring to it.

Happy Wednesday, y'all!

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