Last week, I showed up to my friend Jana’s house (where we co-teach our kids three days a week) late and frazzled. The morning had started off fine, but time slipped away from me between 8:00 and 9:00 a.m. The kids’ morning routine somehow devolved into missing shoes and arguments about whose turn it was to scoop the litter box. I forgot our eldest had a class at a different house than the other kids, and scrambled to throw together a sack lunch. I ran out of time to shower. As we raced out the door, bickering and angst nipped at our heels. By the time we got to Jana’s house, SO late, I was full-on cranky and ragged and ready to admit defeat.

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