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All weekend I was a little anxious about making it through today. The first day of school is always a flurry of activity. (Which is ironic, considering that you really don't do a whole lot of teaching.) And this year I have a new challenge in teaching six classes instead of five. That means from 7:30 to 3:19 I had a total of 30 minutes break.
But I'm 29. It's really not that hard. I did just fine today.
However, I was the only one.
I came home today around five to a toddler in full melt-down mode. Justin was cuddling Em in her room, as she wiped tears off her face.
"What happened?" I asked.
"Oh, she skipped her nap at daycare," said my rueful husband.
Uh-oh.
So, we struggled through the evening. Normally happy during my "dancing" DVD (workout time), today she pouted in the laundry basket, not to be comforted by anything. She hated that we made pasta, typically her favorite. She hated her plate, her fork, even our poor cat who sat...
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