In honor of Babygirl’s arrival I have switched back to part-time work, and though my maternity leave officially ends after Thanksgiving, we ratcheted Babyman down to part-time daycare on November 1. Which means, of course, that yesterday was my first full day with two children, on my own.
I’ll kill the suspense here and tell you that it went really well, and I feel with some confidence that I can do this. (Though it also bears pointing out that in doing this I will do little — read: NOTHING — else. I will not read the paper, I will not watch the news, I will not download the new Florence + The Machine from iTunes. On these days with two children in tow, I will do nothing but be a parent. And on the other days, I will work. So please don’t try to talk to me about China or Occupy Wall Street unless you wish to speak about events before October 31. My knowledge of all things outside my job and family ends on that date.)
I also realized that in the coming year, I will spend a lot of time sort of killing time…and trying like the dickens to make it seem Super Fun. It is, without a doubt, the great creative challenge of my career.
Young children are like extremely sensitive pieces of machinery that require the perfect balance of fuel and rest in order to survive a major excursion. In my experience, it is wildly ill-advised to embark on an Adventure unless your child has very recently woken up from a restorative sleep, eaten a balanced meal, used the potty and/or had a diaper change, and is not yet engrossed in play at home. If the aforementioned pieces are not in place, you must wait for a time when they are (after lunch and a nap, for example), which often leaves you with awkward half-hour chunks when the planned Activity is over and everyone desperately needs some fresh air and a change of scene, but you also need to stick very close to home.
Yesterday, after two big Activities and a short nap in the car on the way home, I found myself facing the witching hour: 4:30pm, when the at-home toys have run their course but it’s too early for a pre-dinner TV program, and when Daddy is still a good two hours from coming home and injecting some fresh energy into the situation, when crayons will only lead to carpet-cleaning and time-outs. Babyman announced his boredom by looking me straight in the eye, throwing his Thomas the Tank Engine figurine across the room, then climbing onto the coffee table — prompting me to stand abruptly, clap my hands, and announce: “Okay, we have begun Making Mischief! Which means: it’s time for you to help me drop off the rent check.”
Babyman responded with a resounding “NO!”, which translates loosely as, “That sounds profoundly boring, Mommy.”
But I am now a Mother of Two. I am experienced. And I had more in my back pocket. I began the seduction:
“You haven’t seen the building office yet, Babyman. There are some seriously spooooooky Halloween decorations in there! I am sure now that Halloween is over they will take them down any day. You don’t want to miss them, do you?”
Babyman looked at me sidelong. I had gotten his attention at “spooky.” He was on the hook. “At Daddy’s office?” he asked, testing me. “Do we have to go in the car again?”
“No!” I enthused. “Right here in our apartment building there is an office! And you must believe me when I tell you it’s the spookiest place in town! And aren’t you lucky that I actually need to stop by there today to drop off the rent? So come on! Let’s GO!”
Babyman scurried off to get his shoes on and I bundled Babygirl into the stroller. 45 minutes later I had dropped off the rent, picked up the dry cleaning, grabbed some milk at Safeway, and provided Babyman ample time with the “scary cat” adorning the building administration office doorway. He even procured a Tootsie Roll in the process. And voila! It was just before 6pm — time to wind down in front of Curious George while Mommy made dinner.
And maybe (just maybe) had a well-deserved beer.
You go girl! Brilliant! Just brilliant! -Lyd