I discovered today that I no longer have custody of Harry. Well, at least not between the time the school bell rings and the time that his babysitter picks him up. Should *I* be at the gate to get him rather than his babysitter, I am not, under any circumstances, allowed to pick him up. She's the authorized picker-upper and only she has the power to get him from his teacher. Unless I send in a note or call earlier in the day. In that case, I can pick him up *assuming* that the office has made the appropriate change on the pick-up forms. So she has to take him from the teacher and then hand him off to me, which will take about .5 of a second. This feels to me like we've established joint custody between me (I suppose I'm now designated the "birth mom") and the sitter (the "custodial mom"). Feels very modern, doesn't it? Well, she seems pretty well off (she should be, considering the rates she charges), so I'll look forward to seeing her contributions to the college fund.

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

from The Walrus and The Carpenter
Lewis Carroll
(from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)




This is my day in a nutshell. Talking about the insignificant at great length. You know what? I'm so done with the conversation about how schools can improve. You know why I'm done? Because we *know* how schools improve. Heedless of your political bent, it's done by giving parents more control, giving kids more control, engaging kids in their learning and admitting that some teachers got into the job because they wanted a deferment from Vietnam. We should be honest with ourselves about all of that, but instead we'll continue to have the apparently groundbreaking conversation about teaching and learning instead of actually just settling in to fight the good fight and fix things.

Sigh.