But when it's a snow day, that means schools are closed, daycares aren't open and nanny transport is none. So that means working from home with child. And in my case, a 13-month-old child.
"Hey mom. I'll go ahead and play independently for hours, change myself, feed myself, put myself down for naps (if I decide to nap) and stay away from household dangers such as stairs and yet-to-be baby-proofed cabinets and electrical outlets, so you can have a productive workday while we're snowed in. Said no 13-month-old in the history of 13-month-olds. Ever."
My Facebook status earlier today. But what's so hard about it? So you have a toddler? Pop in a Disney movie, hand 'em some graham crackers and work. Hahah, my friend. Ha-Freaking-Ha.
An accurate portrayal of my day:
6:45 am: Relish in the fact it's a snow day, hit snooze and roll over for a few more zzzzzzssss.
6:45 and 1/2 second: Baby starts crying. Monitor shows sitting up in crib. Baby does not know nor care it's a snow day.
6:47 am: Mom and baby are up-and-at-'em.
7:10 am: Consider texting nanny saying we have a guest room she can stay in tonight.
8 am: Mom downloads deck that needs to be reviewed before 10 am.
8:35 am: Son protests breakfast. Only thing that will make him happy is feeding mom his breakfast. Which is a mashed Nutri-grain bar with Cheerios smooshed into it. Mmmm.
8:44 am: Breakfast is over. Debate what activity we can play while he is in his high chair (aka: contained). Remember economy size box of Model Magic purchased for the first birthday party. Don't see any toxicity warnings on the label; decide to give it to the 13-month-old. It goes straight to the mouth. Mom takes it away. Baby cries. A lot.
9:04 am: Can no longer keep Son contained in high chair. Move him to the floor and hope he's entertained by mom's permission to play with a mixing bowl, wooden spoon and wire whisk.
9:12 am: We are over the mixing bowl, wooden spoon and wire whisk.
9:13 am: Son content sitting on mom's lap while she types. Dog decides she needs to go outside.
9:14 am: Son discovers the fun of hitting the space bar.
9:30 am: Son begins climbing up stairs; mom takes that as a cue he's heading up for nap. Son doesn't scream and appears content in his crib via monitor. Mom opens first bottle of wine.
9:58 am: Deck for 10 am call still not reviewed.
10 am: Hop on conference call. It goes until 4 pm. This should be interesting.
10:11 am: Dog realizes conference call is taking place. She gets jealous when mom is on the phone. All attention all the time must be on her. She and I are now sharing a chair at the kitchen table.
10:17 am: Baby is awake.
10:30 am: Retrieve baby from crib.
10:37 am: Baby sitting on mom's lap. Bawling. Mom turns on "What Does the Fox Say" video. Without sound so she can attempt to hear conference call. Video is even weirder without sound. But Son stops crying. Also chugs glass of milk. Mom chugs glass of wine.
10:49 am: Give my son his foam blocks to occupy him. Seems to be working. Have no idea what is being discussed on conference call.
10:53 am: Son over the blocks.
10:59 am: Introduce Son to his first sugary cereal: Fruit Loops.
11:05 am: Mom grabs breakfast sandwich from freezer; mom notices two Totino's party pizzas in freezer. Mom wonders when and why dad purchased two Totino's party pizzas. Mom is thinking "dad is really preparing for Snowmageddon," yet wonders why he went to work this morning.
11:26 am: Son is melting down faster than the Wicked Witch of the East. Dog getting hit in the head with Shells and Cheese from the high chair up above.
11:28 am: Officially hang up on conference call.
11:42 am: Pull up blinds on patio door so Son can look outside. Dust bunnies fall on Son's head. Think for a brief second I should dust the blinds more regularly. Or dust the blinds in general.
Sometime between 11:42 and 11:58: Build a fort out of two blankets, the couch, Pottery Barn Anywhere Chair and the ottoman. Son thinks it's hilarious. "Good idea, mom," I think to myself. "This should keep us entertained for hours."
11:58 am: Dog jumps off back of couch. Thinks blanket is on couch. Blanket is actually draped between couch and ottoman; dog falls onto the floor. Mom dies laughing. Dog is terrified. Son is over the fort, even after a rebuild.
12:12 pm: Mom texts best friend, "there is no effing way I could stay home."
9o092122w - 12:19 pm: Son `Was content in playrooam until mom grbbed computer. NoW Son id back at mom, trying to show off his typing skills. H
12:22 pm: Son wants in wagon
12:23 pm: Son waving hands back and forth like he's a pageant contestant, indicating he is done in the wagon.
12:24 pm: Mom wants coworkers to know she's trying to be responsive; she really is.
12:30 pm: In response to the question, "What's my name?," Son says, "MAMAAAAA!" Mom gets another wet, sloppy kiss, bringing the daily count to about 1,279. Mom is reminded that while crazy, it's a good crazy and wouldn't change it for the world. (Perhaps feeling a bit guilty by sending and admitting the text sent at 12:12 pm?)
12:32 pm: Mom realizes she has missed numerous gchats from colleagues. Sorry colleagues.
12:36 pm: Dog is now on receiving end of hugs and kisses. Son likes dog more than dog likes son, unless son is eating. Mom plays interference as a result. But son giving dog kisses and head hugs really is so sweet.
12:46 pm: Son is now helping mom unload the dishwasher. Mom did not ask Son to unload dishwasher. Also, mom is quite curious when dad will be home.
12:49 pm: Son finds pleasure in emptying plastic shopping bags from dispenser while mom replies to a few emails. Meanwhile, dog is frantically digging in Son's ball pit after Son put numerous Milk Bones in there.
12:52 pm: Mom wonders why we have thousands of dollars of toys when an unopened pack of kitchen sponges entertains Son just fine.
12:58 pm: Son down for nap.
1:06 pm: Son sits up in crib, flipping through a book. Mom's glares at monitor communicates gotosleepgotosleepgotosleep.
1:19 pm: Mom doesn't want to waste naptime making lunch, so Mom eats Son's leftover Shells & Cheese. Mom commends her healthy eating habits and dedicated exercise regimen ever since Son entered the world in December 2012. Hey...it's Annie's. At least it's Organic.
1:25 pm: Dad texts he is headed home. Estimated snow accumulation to-date: 4-5 inches. Mom thinks it's funny he drove his Audi today when there's a Tahoe parked in the garage.
1:41 pm: Dad is home, baby is awake; mom and her corkscrew are headed upstairs to the office for the remainder of the afternoon.
2:26 pm: Mom has never found a conference call so relaxing. Mom runs downstairs to quickly grab something and sees Son resting calmly on Dad's lap. Mom says to son, "WTF?!?"
3:58 pm: Mom back downstairs so Dad can make a pass at shoveling before more snow comes. Mom decided that, while there has been a lot of together time, it's been more "try to occupy the baby so mom can work"-time than quality time. Mom decides to pull up the Freeze Dance on YouTube to bust a move with her Son. Mom dies laughing at the pre-roll before the video. Either the smartest or worst ad placement. Surely if parents are resorting to watching the Freeze Dance on YouTube, they need a Bud Light.
4:30 pm: Mom and Dad fill a bowl with snow so CB can play with it for the first time ever. Mom wonders why she didn't do that hours ago. Also learned Son has a new favorite food. It's snow.
5:35 pm: Mom has a confession. She really didn't drink the wine. She drank much more than that. Mom kids.
5:50 pm: Mom reflects on the day while making dinner, and feels guilty and kind of sad. Mom would like to say:
Had Nika not hit Kansas City, I wouldn't have seen Charlie at all today. I was scheduled for a 6:35 am flight to Chicago with a late return home. Mother nature gave me 13 unplanned hours with my son. That's 12 more hours than I get with him on an average work day. And I was so worried about being plugged in, available and responsive--to which I have a responsibility to be--I hardly had any fun with my Son. I vividly remember 2/21/13--a storm they are comparing today's to. I was on maternity leave and I was stressed about getting the driveway shoveled and Charlie to his two-month doctor's appointment. Two months--a peanut. (In terms of age...definitely not size.) Today, he was walking, telling me what a tiger says and saying my name. How fast time goes. Soon, he'll want to spend snow days with the kids down the street building forts and sledding. So, although you can be a total P in the A, mother nature, thank you. Thank you for the reminder that time goes so fast. And next time you bring it, this MAMAAAAA will not only get her work done, but also be appreciative of the opportunity to do her favorite job of all. (But seriously...a snow day on a gorgeous spring day would be a plus.)