I had a pretty brutal weekend grading papers all weekend long (and weekend nights), with the exception of a few glimmering moments here and there--our Derby Day celebration, a fun play-date at our house on Sunday with a new friend, some gardening with T. But most of the weekend was spent grading. I wore out a path from the kitchen table to the office because every five seconds I had to pop up, rush over to the computer, and run google searches to catch plagiarists in action.

Earlier this week, we went to our first parent-teacher conference of the year for T. I love preschool parent-teacher conferences, don't you? They are always relaxing, and at T.'s school the teachers pull out their special padded regular chairs, so you don't have to fold your body into a chair made for people about three feet tall. You sit there, in the sunny and cheerful classroom, and hear (usually) nothing but good things: cute anecdotes about how your child is learning her letters, or mastering the art of scissor cutting, or learning to share.

It's just the perfect day outside today--clear blue skies, warm spring breezes, lots of birds chirping outside my office window. All of this adds up to make this good Friday Feeling even better--what better way to head into the weekend than to have the promise of the continuation of some truly good weather?

I had a long, and involved dream on Saturday night.  It was one of those meandering dreams that takes you on a surreal mental journey, through dark and twisty roads, against the backdrop of an unfamiliar and menacing city.  I won't go into the details of the dream, but it involved my son, and a parent's worst nightmare, and even though it all worked itself out in the end, when I woke up I still had that heavy-chested feeling you get when you have been run through the emotional wringer for a prolonged period of time.

It was one of those early mornings; you know, the kind of morning where everything just looks a flat shade of gray, instead of colored and dimensioned as it should be.  I woke up with a sore throat, the kids just couldn't get moving, T. threw herself down on the hallway runner, stark-naked, and in full tantrum mode while I raced around trying to pack school lunches, find an outfit for her, find matching socks for myself. I forgot to kiss my husband goodbye and here it is, almost Valentine's Day.