My life is logistics. Today I met with both my classes for the first time -- an occasion that always entails a pageful of scribbled notes about e-mails I need to send, rota I need to set up, schedules that need completion and clarification, and the odd student or two that just needs handholding to get going.
The next twenty-four hours will also be consumed with planning to make sure all the essential kid functions will continue as normal during Noel's absence. (He's leaving for Park City, Utah, to cover the Sundance film festival for the next week.)
So everything on my calendar I'm second-guessing: Am I prepared for this? Do I have childcare for that? The church's annual meeting is coming up this Sunday ... there's an evening event for sophomores that I would ordinarily attend ... and thanks to Noel's mom coming to visit for half of his absence, I'll have little trouble doing my usual gallivanting around to such things. It's probably good for me to spend a few weeks a year as a single mother, because it reminds me of how good I've got it with a husband who has my back as I take on all kinds of responsibilities outside the family.
Nevertheless, I never feel ready to go it alone. At the end of every day I'll be mentally reviewing to figure out what I missed, and creating checksheets to insure that nobody walks out the door without a peanut butter sandwich or a spare pair of underwear the next morning. Although I'm the person who gets that together on any normal day, it feels different with no backup -- nobody saying "did you remember to sign that" and "don't forget about the homework." I must admit, though, that getting it done at times like this, Toronto and Sundance and all the rest, makes me feel competent and productive. I'm looking forward to feeling that way on Thursday, January 24; until then, please forgive me not being able to look beyond a three-hour window around the present moment.