as originally posted at www.momnation.ca
Gasp! It is in this moment I ache for help for just one hour. An eye of the clock blasts the fact I have only one hour till deadline. My two-year-old bouncing on my lap, zooming her car. With every other second the question of ‘why?’ comes from my four-year-old who is watching Sesame Street. My tummy rumbles with the emptiness of missing breakfast and too much coffee.
I type with one hand, trying to keep focus on the task. Then, the doorbell chimes beckon their demand for my attention. I hoist my toddler in my arms, unlock the child safety gate and race down the stairs. As I open the door I realize that I am still in my pjs. I say a silent prayer that it isn’t a big deal.
The courier hands me a package and shows me where too sign. I close the door and run back up the stairs to face my computer. I place my tot on the floor and she races around the room squealing.
I resume my typing at a fast pace. My girls pick this moment to ask for more snacks. I fly to the kitchen 10 feet away and open all the snack packs I could grab.
The girls are settling with the second TV show of the morning. I reread the article I need to finish in order to remember where I left off. I am almost at the finish line when a certain odor drifts through the room, prompting another stop to my work. Toddler changed and happy as I go back to the computer for the fifth time to make the deadline.
I type the last sentence. The clock pompously tells me there is five more minutes to go. I ignore the cries from the kids of who did what, and who has what. I reread the final draft and hit the beloved ‘send’ button. The adrenaline rush that hits me is such a relief.
I wonder why I even try to work at home. Without family or vast financial resources, I have no day time help. Occasionally, I work at night when they are asleep. Colds and sleep deprivation override the need to read or watch TV to have some ‘me time’ or hang with my hubby. If I worked outside the home I would only make enough to pay for childcare.
All of a sudden I find the room quiet. I creep out of my chair and tip toe around the floor to see where the kids are located.
I turn near the bookshelf. I spy my oldest trying to read to her younger sister. My heart warms with the precious image. The answer to why I work-at-home in between diapers and tantrums is to be here for moments like the one in front of me. That is the best pay day.
2 thoughts on “WAHM without child care”
I do have help from grandad (Lolo) and my downstairs neighbour but I do appreciate having most of my time with my son. I feel like I’m the first to see new changes in him and we never have to rush in the morning. We take our time doing everything.
Grandpas can rock! Neighbors are so important. I adore your son and would sit anytime if I was in your hood!