But this back-to-work stuff still has me gasping for air.  Seven months into it, I’m no better at managing my time than I was in August.

So here’s a summed-up version of what the mama bear’s been up to.

First, I’ve put lots of time into coming up with strategies to motivate my students.  I like to post loving, caring phrases on the board for the kids to read when they come in.

Here’s another.  This one started out producing the desired results, which meant kids weren’t leaving the room for extraneous reasons.  But then, some little smarty researched Alcatraz and determined there actually had been some escapes.

I was a little concerned that after five years at home, my motivational strategies might’ve become rusty.  But not to worry; just look at this eager student embracing the learning process.

Here’s another.

When I’m not gnashing my teeth at the classroom sleepers, I’m training for a half-marathon.  But unless staying alive is a goal, I’m not aiming to set records with my garden slug-like speed.

Lastly, Logan and I just got back from a trip to Silver Dollar City in Branson.  It was lots of fun.  Only problem was that the jacket I grabbed off the Target clearance rack apparently wasn’t a raincoat after all.

Time management’s never been my thing.  And now that I’m back at work, I’m discovering that I suck at it even more than I thought.

Tonight, I’m typing on my brand-new MacBook.  I gave my old Toshiba an accidental bath with chicken noodle soup several days ago and it couldn’t be salvaged.  I was able to claim it on the homeowner’s insurance, so that part wasn’t so bad.

My job’s still going well.  I’m tired, achy and ready for a snow day, but boy am I glad to be there.

There’s dog fur rolling across the floor like tumbleweeds.

The oven hasn’t been on in weeks.

That’s because after five years at home with my son, I’m back to the grind.  And I never expected to love it quite as much as I do.

In fact, I dreaded it enough to lose plenty of sleep as the mid-August start date edged closer.

I’ve heard people say that after spending a long stretch of time at home, parents find life at work to be easier.

I can’t say it’s less busy than being at home, but wrangling middle-schoolers is definitely not as difficult for me as it was five years ago when I left.

The preteen antics don’t get under my skin quite as much as they did then.  I remember driving home most afternoons with my shoulders scrunched tightly beneath my ears because I was so irritated with the kids. 

I’ve gotten much more adept at picking my battles.  The kids get the vibe that they can’t rattle me, so for the most part, they haven’t tried. 

I’m in a much better frame of mind now that I’m back at work.  And that’s something I never expected.

See that blur behind Logan?  It’s the Grand Canyon.

We got to see it last week with our cousin, Robert.  He lives in Phoenix and took us on a camping trip.

Robert has a neat camping trailer.  Up until now, the only camping I’ve done has been in a tent.  This was much better; no more waking up with rocks poking me in the back or rain seeping through my sleeping bag.

Logan liked the campfire.  He made “shmarshmellows” for everyone although he wouldn’t eat them himself.

He also followed Robert around, assisting with every task.  This resulted in my cousin taking a few time-outs to happy hour.

We rode to the Grand Canyon on a train.  It picked us up from one of the campsites.

But first, Logan posed with one of the local landmarks.

Molly!

She’s a two-month-old Siamese mix we adopted from a Kansas City, MO rescue shelter. 

Since she came home yesterday, Molly’s been lying low, spending most of her time underneath the china cabinet.  Right now, she’s cowering beneath Logan’s bed. 

It’s so good to have a cat again.

Our basement, which closely resembles a landfill or maybe a homeless shelter, did get an overhaul.  There were boxes that hadn’t been sorted through since we moved from Corpus Christi eight years ago.  The stuff stayed boxed during our time in Norfolk. 

In a way, that lengthy time in boxes made the process easier.  That’s because when I pulled out the musty, dirty junk and caught a whiff of the moldy stench, there was only one way to organize it. 

I’ve been pretty serious about the throwing-away aspect of this task.  Just today, I hauled a mold-covered computer desk up the stairs for the trash man’s morning offering.  Whew.

And although we’re a long way from the finished product of a basement that actually resembles some sort of living space, we are ready for this:

Long days with nothing to do while Logan’s in school has had an unexpected perk.  It’s unleashed my inner fun mom. 

I never suspected she was in there or that she’d spend half a day filling up a wagon load of water balloons.

It took no more than 10 minutes for us to toss them all. 

Logan enjoyed every short-lived second.  I think he inherited my deviant streak.  Maybe we can egg cars this week, or perhaps wrap a house.