Calgon, PLEASE take me away...

Today was just one of those days. One of those days when being single and child-free looks REALLY really good.

It was actually mostly a good enough day. I stayed up too late last night, watching the Tony Awards and then surfing for Dr. Who and Sherlock videos on YouTube. So I was tired. But I didn't have to drive Micah today, he got a ride. Took Miss Sofia off to school, made a quick trip to the grocery store, and then took Sam to Ashland for reading class. Picked him up at 9:30, took him to school, met my friend H for a final review of the Yearbook, dropped new disc at printer, picked up Sofia, and went to the day school for the afternoon.

Things are coming along well. Yearbook is at the printer; I just have to go there in the morning to approve the final proof. And graduation is next week. It is a complete joy to work with Hamenahelet, who returned to co-chair the event with me. I adore her, and she is so thorough and precise about everything.

So things were swimming along... until Sofia's aid came into the office around 3:00, very frazzled.

They lost Sofia's eyeglasses. Outside.

They had gone out as a class for gym. The teacher is positive she had the glasses on when they walked out the door. They all went into the shed to get equipment, and then walked in a line up to the parking lot where the gym teacher was waiting (yes, we have gym class in the parking lot).

And yet, when they got to the gym teacher, the glasses were gone.

They searched. The shed, the playground, the walkway. Both the aid and the teacher, and the gym teacher, and all the first grade students.

Did she fling them somewhere as they were walking? No one saw her do it. The aid was walking behind her, and did not see anything unusual.

So now it's nearing dismissal time. The aid and I take Miss Sofia back outside to look, while the teacher gets the other kids ready.

Still no glasses.

Dismissal. Micah goes outside to look. I have to finish something in the office, which now I have to do while Sofia sits on my lap. (She's suddenly VERY clingy!). Then I drop her with AfterCare, and go back outside.

The aid, a really lovely woman, is still searching. We comb through every box and bag in the shed (where all the gym toys and equipment is kept; at least now it's cleaned up!). We search the playground, the fields, the bushes....

And just as we are about to give up... I spot them.

Folded and neatly placed on the ground just under a classroom window.

When the heck did she do that????

Ok, so glasses are found. I'm only a bit frazzled.

We still have a few minutes to wait for Sam's class to be done (the 8th graders have Art after school on Mondays, so we could have more math time during school). They'd spent the whole afternoon practicing their graduation speeches with Hamenahelet.

Which means Sam is in a REALLY BAD MOOD. He is taking very long pauses after each sentence, and does not like being told that the pauses are too long.

Off we go to the car. One grumpy 14 year old (yes, my baby turned 14 yesterday!). One anxious and clingy and grouchy 8 year old (who adamantly did not want to go to gymnastics). And one slightly anxious 11 year old.

The 11 year old uses the car ride home to try to explain exactly what he wants to do for his Simple Machines project - which is due tomorrow. Do I have a wooden wheel he can use to cut a hole into the middle? What size wheel, Micah? Big.

No, Micah, I do not have a spare wooden wheel hanging around. Sorry.

So now he's grumpy and frustrated.

And the 14 year old is HUNGRY, and only wants a fried fish sandwich. Starving, actually. Despite oatmeal, egg-and-cheese-on-a-bagel, a thermos full of pasta, and a bowl of popcorn during art class.

By the time we get into Ashland and go to the Dairy Queen (where Sofia and I can have ice cream while the boys get fish sandwiches), I am SO ready for bed.

And of course the sandwich has sesame seed bun, which sends Micah right over the edge.

I napped once we got home, and the boys calmed down. But Sofia did not fall asleep until 10:45.

In my bed.

Clutching my arm.

Which makes it difficult to type.