27 February 2011

Making Work Work

How corny can I be, right?  The SAHM/WAHM/WAFM (what the hell is the acronym for work away from home mom anyway?) discussion is an old and yawn inducing one.  An issue I probably made fun of in my fast and furious single years.  In those days when fun was dancing till the sun rose and my best buddy was Johnnie Walker, I would have laughed at the mere thought of it.  But now that I have mom boobs, sleep before midnight and created two buddies that keep me entertained without giving me a hangover, I've willfully defected to the other side.

I have tried it all - part time work, stay at home, full time work, no yaya (nanny), with yaya (nanny) and now work at home.  If you've been here before you would know that I'm not exactly the homey housewife, there have been days when I greeted Paco's coming home by shoving a baby in his arms.  Tired of late night ironing sessions, I refused to iron bed sheets and underwear.  No one noticed and it dawned on me that no one ever noticed that I did in the first place.  It is also goes without saying that I am on the slacker mom side of the fence.  Keep my cool as Gael throws himself on the floor in a fit over a toy that will not be his at a mall? You must be fucking kidding me.  Restrain myself from calling a 3-year-old boy ugly when he called my 3-year-old ugly FIRST?  You must be fucking kidding me.  Make a cat out of cereal boxes and dryer lint?  You must be fucking kidding me. 

Even then, I felt guilty about leaving Gael at daycare when he was 5 months old for a part time job that didn't really pay any bills except day care and H&M.  I was exhausted without a yaya or any household help but, strangely enough, I occasionally  miss being without one.  Then when I did go back to working full time for a job I really wanted it involved walking two blocks, a train ride and a bus ride all before 8 a.m and that was only getting to work.  This also meant that I missed all meals of the earthlings and everything else in between.  HATED IT.  Now I work at home and DUH! I can't believer how stupid I was to not have done it sooner.  Some days I end up working long and odd hours, my desk is in a small scorching attic that is unbearable in the summer and too many times I am interrupted by whiny little boys.  On the other hand I can drop everything to attend a school culminating activity, I can rush a sick little boy to the doctor, and all coffee and lunch breaks involve hugs and kisses.

If I start earning a ton of money and buy that beach house Paco and I dream of it would be conclusively perfect.