Professional Baby Wrangling, Done By Professionals
It turns out that working a full time job while having a kid whose daycare is closed for the week for their summer vacation is really freaking hard to manage.
Monday: I work from home with Lis. She’s mostly okay, slightly needy. Mama Vor (who has her own professional career) stops over for two hours in the middle of the day so I can take a five minute shower and work for the rest of the time, uninterrupted. Glory be a willing grandma. Vor doesn’t get home until 8:30 at night. I am ready to pull my hair out at this point, except Lis has already ripped all the hair from scalp and is delighted with herself and her new trick of making me scream.
Tuesday: I hand Lis over to Mama Vor for the day, who arrived 45 minutes later than we planned. Can’t complain though—she is really helping me out this week. I work nonstop, not eating, during the day. At 4 pm, my head hits the glass desk, and I watch the glass fog up with my breath, not really caring about the smudge marks I am leaving. Why? Because Lis decided it would be AWESOME to wake up last night as follows: 11:30 pm, 12:15 am, 1:45 am, 2:55 am, 3:30 am, 4:00 am, 4:30 am. I go home at 4 pm, and nap for an hour. Good thing, too, because Lis is ready to party all night long.
Wednesday: Vor takes Lis for the day and works from home. He comes to visit me at the office in the middle of the day so I can take her and he can make some phone calls. When I get home, he looks exhausted and frazzled. I suspect he billed negative hours today. Lis once again refuses to sleep.
Thursday: I have a hearing in the morning, so Mama Vor comes to take Lis for a few hours in the morning. She comes 30 minutes later than planned, and I rush to my hearing. I rush back, eating in my car (which I never do). I spring Mama Vor so she can return to her day. Lis decides that today, her slave (me) shall hold her. All day. I type one handed. I put the phone on mute when talking to other attorneys so that they can’t hear me breathe weirdly as I bounce up and down to occupy Lis. Lis has developed a new trick of spinning in your arms, causing you to constantly nearly drop her. She also (cutely, loudly) says in your ear: MAMAMAMAMAMA BABABABABABA DADADADADADADA. Lis practically collapses from exhaustion, but is woken up by thunderstorms that shake the house. She sleeps part of the night in bed, then part of the night on Vor on the recliner chair. Vor and I practically weep with exhaustion.
Friday: Mama Vor takes Lis again. She comes 45 minutes later than we planned. I book it to work, draft motions, send emails, make phone calls, make the file run downtown. I am home now, and I have 30 whole minutes before Lis comes back. I plan on dropping dead of exhaustion.
Daycare resumes nest week. Remember how I wept and agonized over sending Lis to daycare? Peace out, kid. Have fun! [Truly, this daycare is awesome and I love them and they love her and she loves them. Two babies to one caregiver who has their degree in child-whatever? Sold!]
Okay, fine, you can email me at graceandpressure [at] yahoo [dot] com. Don't all flood me with emails at once, you know. If you're emailing about craniosynostosis, put it in the subject, and I'll respond quicker. Deal? Deal.