HISD, the county districts, the charters: somebody’s closed, and your kid is on the couch asking if the TV still works.
You need to gut the hallway. You also need a human who knows your child’s name and allergies. Those two jobs don’t fit in one body.
Keep it small and known. This is not the week to try a stranger from a random post.
Do this now
- Confirm the closure yourself on the district site or recorded line, not a screenshot with no date.
- Name one trusted adult for today and one for tomorrow. Put pickup rules in a text.
- Pack snacks, meds, a charger, and a change of clothes that didn’t sit in floodwater.
- Tell the kid where you’ll be and when you’ll check in. Then actually check in.
- If you have nowhere safe, 211 can point to official childcare or shelter support. Don’t leave a child in a gutted house alone “just for an hour.”
Improvising without getting sloppy
A rotation on your block works: you take morning debris, they take afternoon kids, you swap tomorrow. Write allergies and bedtime on a card. If the helper is a teen, that’s a known teen, not a kid watching four toddlers. Flood week is when people get generous and tired. Tired people miss the back gate.
The house is not a playground
Wet floors, exposed nails, bleach jugs, and generators are a clinic visit. If kids must be on site, give them one dry room and a closed door. No “helping” with demo. No wandering to the bayou to look. If a volunteer crew is in the house, kids go somewhere else.
When school still isn’t the update you need
Buses, after-care, and special-ed transport lag even after buildings reopen. Call the campus, not just the district headline. If your kid’s nurse or aide is the reason school works, say that. A closed nurse’s office is a closed plan. Keep 988 in your phone if the adults start snapping at each other. Kids hear that too.
Verify live. Status changes hourly. Confirm closures on the district’s own channels. 211 for official care options. 911 if a child is missing or hurt.