Now; just last week, one of my daycare kids brought his bike, because the sidewalk was clear and the great outdoors had become a possible afternoon playground for the big boys.
But that was then, and this is now.
What happened was the big spring snowstorm. Which means that my carefully planned schedule for sanity management gets promptly thrown out into the snow to die a slow and uncomfortable death.
Day One: Do not give in to the Darkness.
Plunge not into the abyss.
Blow out the yolks on another one.
Or one and a half dozen- all that chipping and yolk-puffing is good for ridding your psyche of toxins.
Day Two: Feel around for whether your head is still physically attached to your neck. Does it just feel like it is spinning wildly and randomly several inches above the body?
Reach for the craft kit that some thoughtful being brought into your abode. Try to block the memories that you are not a huge fan of sitting and doing children's crafts. Try to remember that you have the fragile, growing minds of vulnerable children in the grip of your tremoring hands.
Note that the craft kit was the child's Christmas gift, and the instructions went out with the pine needles many months ago.
Squint through your $12.99 spectacles at the photograph of an instruction book on the backside of the craft kit, and smile optimistically, though not entirely convincingly, at the circle of eager children.
Lay out the wide variety of ingredients that apparently constitute a fairy.
Plug in the hot glue gun.
Engross myself in the mystery of how to form a fairy from the rib of a craft kit, a handful of small ropes, and a felt wing.
Get right into the swing of the thing.
Look up some time later to notice that not a single child is left at the table. Only a fairy made out of strings.