There is a great black hole somewhere in my apartment - I'd yet to discover where, exactly, it is -- but I know what falls in. Library books. We don't have a regular library routine. That is to say, we don't go to the library every Friday and return the three books we checked out the week before and get three more books and stop on the way home for our shabbos candy bar. No. We go to the library intermittently and take out books enthusiastically. This is both thrilling and ridiculous because it means that every few weeks I'm scouring the apartment, panicked, looking for the library books which I will not find. And then there's the school library situation. What's that situation? It's the one that crops up when you return a big hardcover book you didn't buy on purpose to the public library and not the school library. Not good.
It may be that when I'm a classroom teacher and have to thoughtfully arrange my books in baskets that I'll naturally extend my newly found professionally developed organizational skills to our home environment. But I'm not optimistic. Just like my kids loose it most with me, I loose it most at home. It's OK, though, we all have our work.
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