In the juggling act that is my work-at-home life, one of the things that has to give when I'm in crunch time is blogging -- for that, I'm sorry about the recent silence. I'm fine, health-wise, Matthew and the baby are healthy (although the Peach is now fond of making a weird sucking-in-breathing sound -- deliberately, Matthew determined -- which freaks me out every time I hear it, and I hope she forgets about it soon). Life is pretty good.
But the balancing -- well, did I ever mention how much I sucked at gymnastics? I knew hitting the six month mark would mean she'd be much more demanding on my time, but didn't quite realize how much more. Naps? Maybe five minutes, maybe an hour. Time to schedule a conference call? I never bet on it. Time to work on documents while she plays? Only if I'm OK with drafting documents a sentence at a time. (Seriously: I drafted a response to a petition for review a sentence at a time. It was maddening, but I did it and it didn't suck. Why aren't there awards for that sort of thing?) I absolutely love the clients and colleagues who communicate with me via email, because I dread phone calls -- the dog will bark, or the baby will cry, or UPS will appear at the door and then the dog will bark and wake up the baby who will cry. It's the work-at-home trifecta.
Here's an example of an average day in the life:
5:00 am: Peach starts to fuss (in her papasan) or kick me (in our bed), signaling to me that meltdown is imminent, and I should start to prepare a bottle. Matthew is awake and getting ready to go.
5:30 am: Peach has been fed and I am falling asleep while holding her. Into her swing she goes. Occasionally she fusses at me and so I'll sleep on the couch in her room (still partially our den - the TV and couch will be moving out of there in the next month). Also, I will sleep on the couch if I lack the energy to get up and move into the bedroom.
8:00 am: Phone rings. Matthew, client, colleague -- I don't know. I answer and manage to sound awake and alert. I write everything down, because otherwise I will forget it.
8:05 am: Peach is awake and smiling at me. I take her out of the swing and put her on her blanket on the floor. She rolls around while I go in search of caffeine -- Diet Dr. Pepper or coffee. Sometimes the coffee is a day old. I microwave it and don't care.
8:10 am: Water is running while I am changing Peach. She's realized that she is hungry and her gums hurt, so she whines and sticks her fingers (or toes) in her mouth. I hop up, wash hands, and make the bottle.
8:10 am: While feeding Peach, I switch the Harmony remote to my left hand and turn on the TV (TiVo). I mentally curse the American Pediatric Association for the guilt I live with as a result. I angle Peach towards me, so that she can't see the TV.
8:30 am: Thanks to a short attention span and the thirty-second skip hack for the TiVo, I finish a 30 minute program - currently BBC America favorites "You Are What You Eat" and "How Clean Is Your House?" (the latter has been marvelous for getting me to do things like clean the door shelves in my refrigerator in my few moments of free time). Peach goes back onto her blanket to play and roll around, and I grab some of her toys and books. She's into eating her books, not being read to, but we try to do both.
9:00 am: Peach is getting bored and fussy, but isn't ready to take a nap yet. If she's spit up on herself, she takes a bath. If not, I change her into a "daytime" outfit and skip the bath (although now that she's wearing mostly 12 month outfits, of which we have not been given a lot, there's a lot less pressure on me to make sure she wears everything).
9:10 am: Peach goes into the jumperoo (in the computer room) and I make my to-do list, check my email, and try to do a little bit more on the Times Sunday crossword (it now takes me about five days to complete). Look at blogs, maybe start a post, but then:
9:40 am: Peach starts the morning meltdown. I pick her up, change her, and put her in her swing. She's out before the music stops on the swing.
9:45 am: I start working. I'm still in my PJs, but I can't let a nap go to waste.
10:45 am: The dog barks and wakes Peach. Sometimes she'll go back to sleep, but mostly not. We'll play for a little while. We play an elementary version of "Pat-a-Cake," which means I hold out both
of my hands, palms facing her, say "Pat-a-Cake" and then she smiles and
puts her hands against mine. (We're nowhere near, say, the clapping
bit.)
11:15 am: The feeding-playing-changing cycle restarts. While she's playing, I will try to work on my laptop - usually a sentence at a time.
1:00 pm: Peach goes down for a nap. I check the email again and then take a quick shower and dress.
1:30 pm: (Yes, I can go from shower to hair done/make-up done in 30 minutes.) Work. Maybe dishes and laundry.
2:30 pm: Peach wakes up. I feed her and watch TV - Flip That House, maybe, or What Not to Wear.
4:00 pm: Maybe a nap for Peach, maybe not. I am exhausted by this point. I clean up the room while Peach plays and try to figure out what is for dinner. If Peach takes a nap, I can usually put something together -- or I might just fall asleep, too, and not wake up until Matthew gets home. Or, if Peach doesn't take a nap, send a text message to Matthew to bring something home. Think about "You Are What You Eat" and insist on salads.
6:00 pm: Matthew is home. Peach is delighted to see him. I run downstairs and grab my dinner.
6:10 pm: I've gulped dinner and am out the door -- to get my mail, to go to the law library, to go to the store. Will probably sneak in a trip to Starbucks for a triple non-fat mocha, no whipped cream.
7:30 pm: Home. Coffee hasn't even touched the exhaustion, but there is work to do. Matthew is taking care of Peach and playing a computer game.
8:30 pm: Matthew is winding down, and care of the Peach is returned to me. By this point, she is as tired as I am, but (unlike me) has no desire to sleep. I try to put her to bed, but it doesn't take. I try not to think about my to-do list and the one or two checked items on it (out of, say, ten?). We play.
9:00 pm: Peach finally decides to go to sleep. I get back to work, but am so tired I can barely concentrate. I realize I have used the last of the clean bottles, and run downstairs to start the dishwasher.
10:30 pm: Peach usually wakes up when I am transferring her into her (or my, depending on how things are going) bed. I change her, feed her, and then put her back to sleep.
10:50 pm: I try to work, but by this time I'm falling asleep while typing. I will probably fight going to sleep myself until midnight.
12:00 am: Having given up the thought of getting anything else done, I go to bed.
***
But on the weekends? Matthew is primary. I still do quite a bit with Peach, but I can leave the house guilt-free. Watch TV guilt-free. And even work guilt free. (But not yesterday - yesterday had all three of us staying in our PJs all day.)
Recent Comments