Sunday, September 6, 2015

A Week In the Life of a Working Mom (Part 2)

Day 3: Hump Day
Dear Tommee Tippee,
Thank you for capitalizing on the inherent unsophistication of infants, making a bottle that, to them, handles like a boob. I don't know how you did it, but Lady totally fell for it. Her entire family, especially her Mama, is in your debt. You're miracle workers. Lying, little miracle workers.

Day 4: I Am In Hell
At least it feels like it inside my car, anyway. The AC went out in the car I just paid off last month. And just my luck, temperatures shot into the nineties after more than a week of 70-degree days. Today I had to shuttle my poor kids in rush hour traffic. It was ugly. The Bud kept telling me how hot he was, but he didn't like having the windows down, because he said the air was "too heavy in my face." Lady spit up BIG TIME in her carseat. I think she was overheated.

I grew up without air conditioning, which I don't remember being a problem. So, either weather inflation has increased the misery of summer temps 3% per year since the 80's, or they just don't make kids as sturdy as they used to.

We shouldn't leave the house. Thank God for Daddy's car. #tommorrowisanew...whatever.

Day 5: The Home Stretch
Friday, I love you so. Hearing your name gives me the hope of having nowhere to be "on time" for two whole days. Unscheduled bliss! Naps! No cars! Jammies all day!

If only I could get this excited about laundry and house cleaning...

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

A Week In the Life of a Working Mom (Part 1)

I'm a working stiff, again, and it's been interesting, to say the least...
Day 0: The View from the Top
Somehow, the day that felt so far away when we first brought Lady home from the hospital has arrived. My maternity leave is really over. Tomorrow is my first day back to work and I'm freaked out, but determined to try my hardest to do this thing well. I've been here before and survived, right? How much harder can it be to get two kids and two adults out of the house each day, with sanity intact?  I read somewhere that when life is hectic, you should "help your tomorrow self" by doing as much as possible the night before, to minimize the chaos. That's what I'll do. I'll keep my focus on logistics, and all will be well. Today's preparations were intense, but I'm feeling ready. Laundry is done, lunches are packed, checks for childcare written, clothes laid out, all bags are packed and waiting by the door, and both kids bathed and put to bed with a minimum of fuss. I am a Working Mama Guru. I should teach this stuff. People will want to learn from me. I am kicking tomorrow's ass!

Day 1: Liftoff
Things went as planned. Sort of. Everybody got breakfast and left the house with their assigned bag(s)/kid, at least. I was almost too busy to focus on the fact that I was about to spend 9 whole hours apart from my sweet girl for the first time in her whole, tiny life. [Cue tears]. Lady and The Artist left the house on time, but traffic took its toll--Daddy reported that he was 15 minutes late to work after dropping the baby off. Back at home, with 30 minutes til go time, The Bud refused to get dressed and I lost my temper with him.


Somehow, I managed to leave the house only 5 min behind schedule, drop The Bud off at preschool, and get to work on time. Being back among adults feels pretty good, I'm not gonna lie. An hour later I realized I forgot to leave the check for preschool. Late fee. Reports from daycare were a mixed bag. Poor, little Lady strongly objected to our forced separation and went on a hunger strike. She barely ate all day. Sitter was encouraging and not at all concerned. She's seen it before. Tonight, I ordered new bottles that are supposed to trick babies who prefer to nurse into thinking a bottle is a boob. They'll be here in two days and I didn't have to brave the Target parking lot at 8:30 pm to get them. Thank you, Amazon Prime. I'm not completely confident this will work, but I'm willing to try anything to get her to eat. I don't know what I'll do if this experience turns her into an iffy eater, like her brother. Having two preemies has made me a mom I (smugly) was determined never to be--a mom who freaks out over if/when her kids eat. Oh, how the mighty have fallen...*Sigh* #tomorrowisanewday

Day 2: Faceplant
Today I woke up in a fog. The Artist and I were so tired from our respective days that we both fell asleep last night in front of the TV (me in a chair), without "helping our tomorrow selves." Crap. I dragged myself to bed in time for Lady to wake for her 1 am feeding. She was up twice more in the night. Making up for not eating the day before I guess. All that to say, this morning was tough. I overslept, and of course everything took too long to do. I sent a half packed and totally useless diaper bag to daycare. The Artist handled shuttling both kids, thank God, so I had enough time to scarf down a fork full of The Bud's leftover breakfast of pancakes with peanut butter on my way out the door and screeched into work only a few minutes late. No packed lunch today, so I made do with takeout. Not ideal, but not fatal.

In spite of it all, I was taking the day in stride. I handled a couple of different work situations with something approaching my normal level of competence, so I guess I got a bit cocky and relaxed my guard. Rookie mistake. When I pumped at lunch, I pulled my shirt down to attach the cups, instead of up. Did I lose focus and in the bustle to clean up all the parts and get back to work, did I forget to pull my shirt back up, and did I walk around my office for AN HOUR with my nursing bra (and breasts) exposed? Yes. Yes, I did.
I am a cautionary tale. *Sigh* #tomorrowisanewday
Stay tuned for the next installment of "A Week in the Life of a Working Mom (Part 2), Day 3: Hump Day..."