Avery is home from school today. She’s not sick, but apparently lice are making their way around the Kindergarten… and we’re now on Round 2 of our lovely battle with lice that’s taking place on Avery’s head. I’m not a happy momma, but that’s not what this post is supposed to be about, so I’ll save it for another day!
So, Avery is spending the day at home with me. It’s very rare that we spend time alone, without the boys around. And it’s been nice. We baked brownies this morning… because I’m an awesome mom and feed my child brownies for breakfast. Then, we sat in the middle of the living room floor and played Dora Scrabble and Dominos, and we rolled and tossed a ball back and forth and counted to 145 (for some reason Avery thought THAT game was hysterical; I never knew counting was so entertaining!).
We just took a lunch break. I had a ham and cheese sandwich, and Avery’s devouring her beef pot pie as I type this.
Now, she’s expecting me to return to the living room floor and play more games. And, as much fun as I’ve had with her so far today, I’m trying to figure out how to break it to her that Mommy reallllly needs to work this afternoon. Sigh.
I’ve spent the past 9 years trying to make my children understand that I actually work on this computer… that it’s necessary for me to sit here for 12 hours a day, even when they’d rather I sit in the living room and play games. And I guess I haven’t done a very good job of making them understand that. Because it’s no easier today than it was 9 years ago, for any of us.
I keep telling myself that, on days like today, I should be grateful that I work from home. If I didn’t work from home, someone would’ve had to miss a day of work to stay home with Avery today… and I know that would’ve been stressful, too. But, this isn’t exactly a picnic either. No, Nick didn’t have to call off from work and miss a full day’s pay today. But, I did spend several hours of my day sitting in the middle of the living room floor, playing with our daughter. And what I should have been doing was working for those several hours. My deadlines don’t get pushed off by a day just because lice decided to take up residence on my kid’s head.
You would think that, after 10 years of working from home, I’d have this all figured out, right? But I don’t… not even close. First and foremost, I’m a mom. That’s what I tell myself, anyway. But shouldn’t a mom who just spent hours baking and playing with her daughter feel happy about that? Because I’m having trouble conjuring up that particular emotion right now. Instead, I’m stressed and worried and resentful. And sad. Because I know that my daughter deserves more than that.