Wednesday, June 19, 2013

WORK at Home Mom?

I am a working mom, which means that the majority of the days of the week, I am outside of the house being a busy worker bee. Of course, having a job, a husband, two kids and a dog wasn't enough, so on top of my "day job" I also have a side business which I run from my home (and my illustrious blogging career, of course). My side business is one of those kinds of jobs where I have to pay attention to details and really concentrate-- no "phoning it in" like I do in most of the other areas of my life. In other words, I need peace and quiet and time to focus.

Now let me clue you into something else. I'd say a good 95% of the time I'm with my boys, they ignore me. I talk, they barely register that I'm speaking. I walk into a room and they hardly notice. So you'd think I could get a shit-ton of work done while they happily destroy the house, right?

HA! I say. HA!
\
The MINUTE, and I mean down to the very second I fire up the lap top, they are drawn to me like moths to a flame.

Case in point:

This photo was taken on a recent Saturday morning. It is me sitting in my office trying to work (I'm the ear and hair). You see, the boys were settled into the couch, happily watching the electric babysitter and eating dry cereal, so I thought to myself "hey self, this is the perfect time to go in the office and get some work done." No sooner had I started to work than the boys were in my office messing with stuff, asking questions, and fighting.

Even now, as I write this blog post I am interrupted every 10 seconds. In fact, this is the conversation I just had with my snorkel clad 5 year old:

B: "Mommy, are you done with all your phone calls? Could we call all my friends in the whole wide world? When are you gonna be DOOOOOOONE? This is so boring!!!!"

ME: "You know what kiddo, I would be done a whole lot sooner if you would QUIT INTERRUPTING ME!!!" is what I think while giving a much more PC response of "Soon, buddy. Why don't you go do blah blah blah in the playroom"

B: "That's boring"

ME: YOU'RE boring. (yes. I really said that. And yes, it was int the accusatory tone of a 4th grader). Go play in the play room.

B gave the huge "why have I been challenged with this mother" sigh and left.

And is now demanding that I come to the playroom to help him with something.

Lord help ME!

So, I've resigned myself to coffee & late nights and early mornings, just to make some extra money that I will then spend on frivolities... Like dental bills and soccer cleats.

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Float Like A Butterfly...

A few weeks ago, I discovered that Mike Tyson works out at the same gym as me.  Coincidentally, my 2-year-old, G, started hitting that same day.  Naturally, I assume the two are somehow related.  He hits friends, family, and foe alike.  If he is happy, he hits.  Sad, he hits. Mad, he hits hard.  Playing, he hits with a toy.  Eating, he hits with food.  Spotting a trend here?

We tried saying "No." He hit us.  We tried taking away his toys.  He hit us.  We tried crying.  He hit us and laughed.  We tried saying "Ouch".  He hit us in a different spot.  We tried flicking his hands.  He hit us and cried.  So now we are on the timeout tract.  He has a bench he has to sit on and it is somewhat working.  By working, I mean, he is far enough that he can't reach us to hit us.  He spends a lot of time on that bench.

Luckily, we live in Vegas and MMA is big here.  Thanks a lot Tyson!

Pammy