Hey Jakey,
Hopefully you've noticed by now, sweetie. I work from home now. We're seeing a lot more of each other. It's not necessarily quality time that we've gained, but quantity, and that's a start.
All my life I've wanted to work from home. It seemed the height of decadence to me. The freedom to get up late, and work late at night, to take a nap in the middle of the day, to watch tv, make a sandwich, work in my PJs. To take you to the park for a leisurely stroll between work-related tasks.
Well, I got my wish sometime in August, when we closed down the Tahoe office. All three of us work from home now. Except for B, who was "let go" or "fired" about a month ago.
The first couple of weeks, I think your daddy and I were going to kill each other. This is a small house for three people to roam around in, especially if all three of them are there 24/7. You had to adjust to a weird situation, too: Momma's home, but she can't play or hang out or be any fun. I mean, how to explain that concept to a 2.5-year-old?
We've been doing this now for a couple of months, and have started to settle into it a bit.
Most notably, I've pushed through my initial little problem of personal hygiene. Or lack thereof. At first, I would go days without a shower, just rolling straight out of bed, right to my desk, in my pajamas, which I would stay in till the next day, then the next. Ewg. Thankfully, I've started setting some standards of cleanliness, and now give myself until noon of each workday before I dutifully take a shower, ha, whether I need one or not. Follow-through here is important. It's easy to step out of the shower, shrug into a bathrobe and sit in front of the computer all day, sans any sort of underthings, wet hair plastered to head, drying to a frizzy mess. Yeah, that phase lasted about a week... or so. Baby steps.
So now I make sure I get dressed, I make sure I do something, anything to my hair, I make sure I brush my teeth.
I broke down and bought my own laptop, pictured above. Yeah, yuck. It's not a Mac, but Macs are tres expensive, and you have to settle for a sub-standard, inexpensive PC when the company won't buy you *yet another* computer (they've bought me a couple in the past, and my pleas for a laptop fell on deaf and unsympathetic ears).
A laptop became essential, cuz my desk and desktop computers (all three of them) are wedged into a corner of our bedroom, and spending all my waking AND sleeping hours in that room was driving me batty. When you gained your own bedroom, sweetie, momma lost her office space. THAT's how much I love you. Remember that. Always.
So now I have this ginormous $399 Best Buy clearance item laptop to lug around with me from room to room. It's not tiny and cute, and when I take it to meetings, I sheepishly pull it out of my bookbag, elbow people out of the way at the conference table and set up shop. I don't know what's more embarassing, this behemoth of a laptop, or the cute pink notebook with cartoon monkeys I used to take meeting notes in, while my colleagues tap-tap away on their fancy, miniscule $3K+ (company-bought) machines.
So the deal is, work from home everyday, meetings in Reno all day on Tuesday. Not a bad deal, considering. But I sometimes feel like a mole emerging from my hole on Tuesdays, all anti-social and blinking at the bright lights.
I had grand plans when all this commenced, of turning over a new leaf, free of my slacker tendencies, living on a self-imposed schedule of diligence and focus. Getting up at 6-ish, exercising, taking you to the park and shopping for the day, showering, sitting down to work. Healthy lunch. More work. A late afternoon jaunt to the coffeehouse for a mocha if I was caught up on my projects. Turning off the computer at 6-ish. An evening of quality family time.
Bah.
Being pregnant put paid to all that happy horse shit. All I wanna do is lay in bed till the last possible minute, nap when time permits (and even when it does not), and watch tv when my work is done. I swear, not a day goes by lately that I don't gaze at you and wish to God I had the energy to take you for a walk. Thankfully daddy does.
Hopefully, this whole work-at-home thing will eventually sort itself out, maybe somtime in February, when I come back from maternity leave, and this unpregnant momma can do better for you and for herself.
Love you, you little sleeping-through-the-night-in-his-own-big-boy-bed awesome little man, you.
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