Category Archives: parenting

parenting, WAHM

Working with an infant…

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Hahaha HA!!!

Soooo….. trying to work from home with a small and determined time sucking device attached to your hip is an exercise in frustration! However, as I need to meet statutory deadlines in my line of work, I have to do it. So here are the tools I employ to make it possible.

To begin with, I create more than one daytime play “area”. Otter has two play centers, one is an exersaucer, one is a jumper. He also has a play area right by my desk, with toys and books, and one in the living room (which I can see from my desk or work in with my laptop.) I call them ‘daytime’ areas because they are easily and quickly packed up and put out of the way in the evening when everyone is home and we need more space. That way, his area’s can interfere with walkways and other shared spaces, because he only uses them when no one but the two of us is home.

I begin my day with whichever play area he is happy in, then while he tools around in his space, I work.

When he begins to complain about his activity, I will scoop him up, cuddle a bit, nurse or play, and then set him in play area number two. Note: This is key! Do not simply pluck the baby up, and then plop them down in the next play zone without first responding to their plea for your attention. It will not work. They will not play. If you take the time to snuggle and play with them for a bit before moving on, you will be much more successful. Also, moving Oliver to another play area may at times take a rotation through all available play areas until we find one that makes him really happy. This might also take an offering of Goldfish or dried apples.

Once he is settled again, I sit down to work.

When he is no longer happy with my attention being focused on something other than him, I bring him over to my desk in his high chair and give him a snack while I work. I try and keep things that I can do while multi-tasking reserved for this time of day, so I can successfully work and play with him. When he begins to protest this set up, I will settle down with him for a solid block of snuggling, nursing, or playing, before trying it all again.

If this doesn’t work, I will bring out the big guns.

What are the big guns? Things he cannot otherwise have.
For example:

  • A container of baby wipes. He rejoices in pulling wipe after wipe out of the convenient container and tossing them on the floor. When desperate for work time, I will clean the floor under his highchair really well, grab a lunch baggie, and set him in his chair with a container of wipes. He will while away my work time while happily removing a wipe, studying a wipe, and then discarding the wipe. When he tires of this activity, I will pick up all the wipes, plop them into the baggie, stuff that in my diaper bag for use on the go, and send him to a different activity.
  • A remote control. He loves to use the remote control, he finds it to be the most magical of all tools in the house, next to keyboards. I will hand him an old remote with the batteries taken out and set him in his play area with it. This will usually buy me a long time to work, as he never gets to play with it unless I am desperate for work time. The same goes for an old cell phone.
  • Television. When I absolutely am desperate for work time, I will place him in one of his living room play areas, give him a snack, and allow him to watch Little Bill, Little Bear, or the Sunny Side Up Show. All three make him smile and laugh. This will usually buy me about 30 minutes, or if I am really lucky, an hour.
  • The front door. Our front door has a window in it that Otter can see out of. If I set up a cozy space near the door and place him in it, he will usually watch the outside world for a while.
  • Kitchen tools. Handing him a series of baking pans and some spoons with set him a banging for a bit. (This only works if you can either work with noise, or wear ear plugs.)

The biggest key to carving out time in the day to work, is being aware that the time will not be contiguous. You will not get three straight hours to immerse yourself in something unless your child takes a long, and consistent nap. Mine does not.
Therefore, prepare to be interrupted, take the interruptions as opportunities to play for a bit and have a break. Make sure to fulfill your baby’s need for attention during those breaks, so that redirecting their attention to another center or toy is effective. If I don’t take the time in between each center to cuddle and coddle, he doesn’t play as long, or as cheerfully, and we both get cranky and frustrated!

So there you have it, my daytime work routine. I wanted to share it because it took me many months of tearful frustration to develop a method that would allow me to get in any real work during the day and I thought I might save someone else from some of that frustration by sharing my techniques.

Oh, there he goes, bidding for another cuddle break!! (Blogging counts as work too you know!)

parenting

Night terrors…

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Please tell the voices in my head to shut up.

The problem with having a very active imagination and a dramatic flair is really horrible recurring nightmares.
I have always had oddly detailed freaky night terrors, dating back to my childhood, but with motherhood came new, more terrifying, ones.
Because of course now I have something really precious to lose… my children.

For a while I had nightmares of escaping a zombie invasion with my daughter, then two. I would watch zombies kill her over and over again because I simply couldn’t explain to her why she needed to be quiet while we hid from them.

However, ever since Nick drowned last year, my nightmares have taken a more horribly realistic turn.

Night after night I wake up with images of Oliver falling into a swimming pool, eyes open, little air bubbles coming out of his mouth, soft baby hair swaying with the lapping of the water.
I am underwater with him, looking up at his struggling little profile, unable to get him out.

I always wake up before he drowns, but after he has taken his first watery breath.

I wake up shaking and horrified, once again wondering if Nick was aware when he began to drown, if he felt that first breath of water, if he knew.

I can lock the images away, snuggle close to the baby and go back to a dreamless sleep, but it takes a toll.

There is another one, of Marlena, but in this one we are at the ocean.

I am there with the kids, sitting under a beach umbrella with Oliver, while I watch Marlena splash at the water’s edge. Suddenly she stumbles into the waves, and is pulled out to the sea.

I am frozen, terrified as I search for her head in the waves, holding the baby in one arm while I try to find her anywhere in the vast, deep, wholly unforgiving, sea.

I wake up before I find her, pregnant with unshed tears and terror.

I understand from a psych 101 perspective that my subconscious mind is dealing with my fear of being unable to protect my children. I get it. However, that information is very little comfort in the dark quiet parts of the night.

Snuggling my baby, checking on my little girl. Those two actions are the only things that help the sense of horror go away.

I wish I had a less creative imagination. I wish I dreamed of zombies again, or nuclear attack, or something other than the cold lonely terror of drowning.

Monkey, parenting

The Argument…

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The scene opens on a slightly cluttered but serene living room where a young girl watches television. She is about fifteen minutes into a half hour episode of the Wonder Pets. A contented mother is peeling apples in the kitchen, with a baby crawling around at her feet…

“Monkey, after The Wonderpets are over, you have to go clean your room.” I say from the kitchen, where I am tackling an apple pie.

“Okay Mom!! I will.” She happily responds, adding the finishing touches to her latest work of art.

Twenty or so minutes later, after hearing Monkey happily run upstairs to begin cleaning, I curiously poke my head back into the living room, having noticed the top of her head pop up from the depths of the couch.

“Monkey, why aren’t you cleaning your room? Didn’t I say you needed to go clean it after Wonder Pets?

“Look!” she says happily, pointing to the t.v.”It’s still on, there was another one.” She settles back into the couch, confident in the security of her position.

Sigh. “Honey, turn off the television and go clean your room please.”

“But Mom! You said after the Wonderpets!”

“I meant after the last Wonderpets, and you knew that, as you went upstairs to clean when it was over. Please stop delaying and go clean your room, you have been putting this off all weekend.”

“Okay Mom.” She grumbles, shooting me a look that clearly indicates I am currently playing the role of Evil Stepmother in her personal daytime soap opera.

About thirty minutes later, after following the faint jumping sounds into the living room…

“Monkey honey, what are you doing downstairs? Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning your room?

“But Mom! I am not watching T.V.!!” She says as she hops lightly from foot to foot, clearly engaged in an invisible game of hop scotch.

Shaking off the tangent, I point out the obvious “True, but you are also not upstairs cleaning your room.”

“But I am NOT watching T.V.!!” She sallies back, hands now resting on her hips, in an unconscious mimicry of me at my most irritated.

“I agree. However, you are NOT upstairs cleaning your room.” I respond, fearing that maybe in my sleep I began speaking French or Russian and am therefore no longer communicating in a language she can understand.

“MOM! I AM NOT WATCHING T.V.!!” She yells, stamping her foot at the unfairness of the universe in general and me in particular.

“Monkey” I exclaim, much closer to a bellow than I like to get “You will go upstairs now and clean your room or there will be no play-date with Mariah tomorrow. Do you understand?”

“Oh!! Yes mom!” She says as she dashes up the steps into her Cinderella role once again, finally having enough motivation to tackle her most hated chore.