New graduate students always ask, “How, with family and work and all, do you manage graduate school?” I don’t think there is a patent formula for this. From a personal perspective, I’m not sure if I “managed” graduate school or if it “managed” me. So, to answer the question, here’s a page from my personal journal.

On a good day, say Tuesday—Monday’s are never “good”—I’m up at 4:00 a.m. to shower, dress, pack lunches, quickly sift through e-mail, drag a late night load of clothes out of the washer and toss it in the dryer, and drink more coffee than is probably good for a body.

I roll the kids out of bed at 5:15 to get them ready for the day. Breakfast takes a while as I’m the only one really “awake.” My darling husband toddles in around 5:45, mumbling something about coffee.

By 6:00 a.m., I have everyone dressed, backpacks and diaper bag ready to go, and we’re heading out the door. Kids are dropped off at 6:30 with hugs, kisses and promises that mommy will give them a good night kiss when she gets home—which will be sometime around 11:30 p.m. Yes, that’s right, p.m.

If traffic’s good, which it rarely is, I’m at work by 7:15 or 7:30 and work straight through until 3:30. I’ve put in my 8 hour day and am out the door for “lunch,” which I eat on the road as I drive to the university. I spend a frantic 20 minutes searching for parking and dash into class right on the dot of 4:00 p.m.

I sit in my policy class trying to stay focused and not think about the field trip I was supposed to help chaperone today or the piano recital I’m going to miss on Wednesday—yet another class. At break, I check e-mail and phone messages. My husband’s dropped a note to let me know we’re out of milk and could I “just swing into the convenience store on the way home to get some.” Instead of calling and giving the darling man grief—though I do wonder why he doesn’t just take the kids to the store and pick up the milk himself—I attack the vending machines, looking for chocolate to ease the stress of the day.

Policy is over at 7:00, but the day doesn’t end then. I have a finance class from 7:00 – 10:00 and then have to hit the library to pick up some reserve books on my way off campus.

I’m seriously drooping on the way home. Realizing, as I pass the store at the end of my block, that I still need to stop for milk. Grinding my teeth, I turn the car around and head back to the store. I finally roll into my driveway at 11:30.

I walk in to find a pile of clothes on the floor of the utility room. Whew! Obviously these are destined for the wash. I toss those in and start the load before progressing onwards. Dishes from dinner are piled in the sink. I’ll tackle those in the morning.

I kick my off my shoes, drop my backpack, purse and laptop on the dining table and head for the kids room. Thinking as I go, “I’m so tired. I can’t do this anymore. What was I thinking when I started this???”

Then I look in on my children. My handsome son and beautiful baby girl. And it all becomes perfectly clear. This is why I’m putting myself through this. And for this, I can get through yet another day.

Until next time! Lynn Byrne