So it's official. For the first time in I don't know how long my in basket is empty. After an eternity of struggle, catching up to demand of editors, students, teacher librarians, I am looking at a blank screen. I am reminded of the moments when my young children were all in good places. There was usually someone in some kind of need. But not always. Every now and then I would look up in the middle of my day, run through the list, and realize that all four of them were okay. Healthy and happy, up-to-date in terms of shots, cavities, homework, haircuts, clothes, and birthday presents. (Yes, I know. No one was starving or drowning, abused or at war. No one had cancer. These are healthy first-worlder concerns. I was and am aware of the little-league aspect of my worry life.) I remember feeling - for those few hours - off the parental hook. As I do now, workwise. How long will this state last? Not very. There's manuscripts due back any day now, students to ment, and Christmas is coming. So I must make a point of enjoying it. Hallelujah.
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