The morning is really difficult today.

Our principal has asked us to conduct remedial classes after school for half an hour, which is not really a big deal—he wants us to do it once a week. Except that maths is supposed to be on Wednesdays, and there is also club on Wednesdays. The day is shortened by this, but club is an hour, and the day is shortened only by half an hour. So the day runs until 4:30 anyway. Then half an hour of remedial class. It’s hard to teach until five. It’s hard to be “on” for that long, and it’s hard to do everything that needs to be done when I get home when I’m exhausted. It’s hard to soothe all the parts. It’s hard to process the day and put it away.

So when I wake up in the morning, usually this hasn’t really happened. The parts aren’t soothed. The day hasn’t been processed. I made dinner, I went to bed, I calmed down enough to sleep, but everyone is just waiting for morning to tell me their problems.

They do, but the morning isn’t long enough to sort everything out for them. Lana has this problem with her friend. There was an enormous spider in the kitchen that had to be taken outside, and she’s afraid of spiders. This one is literally as big as the palm of my hand. Anna notices the date—that it is almost May, and it will be Mother’s Day soon—and the grief of the miscarriage surfaces all over again.

The morning is just not long enough.