Cloistered

I had an unusual day at work today. Usually Monday is all about interruptions -- ideas my boss wants to run by me, students and staff with questions, sudden projects that have to be done right away. But today I spent long stretches working alone on a book review, then on the student work that I didn't do on time because I was writing the book review. Both got done. I wouldn't have laid odds on that when I walked in the office.

By the evidence in their backpacks and their scattered reports, things seem to be a bit unusual at the kids' school, too. Archer didn't bring home his assignment planner, and when I pointed that out he told me that his teacher had to take car duty because the regular car duty teacher was sick, so they didn't do their assignment planners.

But some things are quite organized. Today Cady Gray turned in a large human-shaped cutout decorated as what she'd like to be when she grows up -- a teacher decked out in a fabric-strip outfit with button eyes and yarn hair, holding chalk and worksheets and sporting an identity badge on a lanyard -- thanks to the help of her grandmother in completing it over the weekend while I was gone. And I got a robocall from the principal inviting me to PTO open house two nights this week.

My parents leave tomorrow; Noel gets back on Thursday. There's nothing unusual about the few days in between -- drop off the kids, go to work, teach class, attend meetings, pick up kids, supervise playtime, have dinner, get them to bed, write and knit. No problems on the horizon except the usual ones of being on point, the ones from which my parents have been insulating me since their arrival last Wednesday. Cheer me down the homestretch, and Noel back into the locker room.