Actually written on an emergency card:

Occupation: Domestic Goddess.

Also, parent of Mr. High Maintenance (we'll call her Mrs. High Maintenance) came looking for me at lunch, just as the office staff and I were saying some not so nice things about her. That was lovely. It was about as lovely as the lengthy lecture I got on taking care of Mr. HM.

Now I see why, when I was hired two weeks into the school year last year, everyone said what a relief that was for me. These first three days have been nothing but craziness, and my sanity was only barely saved today when "Epilepsy Mom" returned a phone call I'd made in hopes of getting updated information on her daughter and left a message about five minutes long thanking me over and over for making the effort to get in touch with her. (My goodness, how things have changed since our first encounter.)