Here I sit looking around me at the piles of work to be done. I'm exhausted. Two days in LA for work and I'm pooped. I think back to my younger working days, pre-kids and marvel at the stamina I had back then. All nighters, traveling -- boy am I such a wuss now. Of course it didn't help that I didn't sleep much while gone. The street noise at the hotel was so loud and I was pretty wound up. Then last night when I was supposed to be catching back up, I was awake for two hours remembering things that didn't get accomplished. Tonight should be much better.
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I am back to drama with the drama queen. Poor thing just can't seem to handle new situations and now they've started writing a report -- her first full fledged report ever. The teacher has done a wonderful job of taking the kids through the task of note taking -- she's provided the outline in the form of questions to answer and once they answer the questions, they've got the note. But boy is the drama queen having trouble. She just gets herself all in tears before she even starts. I feel so bad for her but luckily we've had a good spell of no tears for the past month so I've got patience to handle it. For a day, maybe two.
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Husband got a Tuesday because of my traveling. Tuesday is our bad, evil, crazy day and finally the husband got to experience it. Even the kids were all 'oh wow, dad's got a Tuesday' when they found out I was going to be gone. It was a special Tuesday too because of a performance of son's barbershop chorus at a tree lighting -- so husband had the pleasure of having to be at two places at once (those are the worst -- and I get about 4 of them a year). They all managed it just fine as I figured they would. Son even managed to find his tux pants that were sort of hidden (I knew where they were but forgot to tell anyone but son found them -- thank the gods for indpendent, self-sufficient kids).
A bed is calling my name.
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