If I were a school superintendent, one of my least favorite jobs would be second-guessing the weather. And then having to call the school delays and cancellations. No matter what the decision, or when it's called, you'll NEVER make everybody, particularly parents, happy.

So it is with understanding, but increasing frustration, that we near the end of a no-school day today, on the end of a three-day holiday weekend that appears to be sliding into, if the forecasts are on target, a delay tomorrow. Argh! (And that's not counting the delay last week.) There's nothing we can do about the weather, but all of these changes really mess up the routine. I was out with my daughter and one of her friends yesterday. We ran into a few of their pals. One predicted a two-hour delay today. Another said it would be no school. They're only sixth-graders, yet both were right. What began as a delay worked itself into a no-school Tuesday.

When I couldn't sleep early this morning -- I think it was 3 a.m. -- I turned on the TV to look for school closings and delays in the hope that I'd get a jump on the day, and then could start planning how I would work everything out for my daughter, the dog, my work. Nothing. So, I watched about an hour of "Camelot'' on TCM. Nothing. Then I checked on the laundry in the dryer. Still no word.

Back to sleep for an hour. Then word of a two-hour delay. Got everything worked out, readied myself for work. Then, no school. Changed the plans. Took two Extra-Strength Excedrin.

Moral to the story: Just sleep in. Skies will be sunny, road will be clear and school will start on time!

Postscript: It's the next day, Jan. 19. I was right. Planned on a delay because of the forecast, allowed my daughter to stay up late and, voila, NO SCHOOL DELAY today! Works every time!

Not yet out of July, but we're ready for sixth grade. My daughter is one organized kid. That's why she pulled me to Target and Staples last night, July 22, to hit their back-to-school treasures. And let me tell you, the erasers, notebooks, lunchboxes and backpacks are spilling out of the shelves and off the hooks.

Remember last year? she asked. We waited until August and everything was picked over. Big time. Pencil boxes were practically endangered school accessories. 

Well, let me tell you. There's nothing endangered at this point in the summer. So, smack dab between beach week and camp time, we ventured directly into the inventory with a list and a shopping basket, determined that this would be the one and only trip. She decided on the purple, 3-inch binder. Six folders, each with a different geometric, floral or cute-puppy design. (I hope you're reading this Mrs. Braun.) Pencils: check. Scissors: check. Tissues, pens, notebook paper: triple check.

She's already filed everything in the binder, complete with labels. Argh. Now  if only I could get her to clean her room!