I have a bad cold, maybe bronchitis, maybe something else, which has been making life difficult. But yesterday it was time to do schoolwork again. It's been a while. It's been long enough that Little Guy and Snuggler thought it would be preferable to do their math at 9pm Sunday night, just so they wouldn't have to do it in the morning (when they'd rather play). Nice idea, but I am not a good mother after 9pm. My kids know this, and when they forget it I remind them. I just don't do nighttime parenting. The exception is dealing with teen angst, which only seems to emerge after the sun goes down.
Yesterday morning the girls played a rousing (?) game of Preposition Bingo, and did a bunch of workbooky kinds of things. Little Guy demanded science (a week of electronics with the Snap Circuits apparently doesn't count), so we did the old slip-pennies-into-the-full-glass-of-water thing, to look at surface tension. Then we read a chapter from Carry On, Mr. Bowditch, our current read-aloud. It's a fine book.
But mostly I coughed a lot and tried to meet my deadline. It didn't happen; I was too sick. Fortunately my throaty longshoreman's voice and a sudden coughing attack when I called my boss were persuasive enough to get me an extension.