At work, I am a superstar. I can answer the phone while typing an invoice while answering a question of the person standing behind me while reading a blog entry and tweeting. And if it’s the right time of day, I’ll be eating my lunch while doing all of the above.
But at home? I am so NOT a superstar. In fact, if it wasn’t for my super fanstastic cell phone, I don’t think I’d ever get to read blogs or check my e-mail on an average day at home. To be honest, it’s been 10 months and I still haven’t figured out how to participate in life while taking care of Mason. Yes, I know I can stick him in his jumperoo and vacuum the floor, but I just used up all of his jumperoo patience by surfing the internet while he bounced. And now the floor remains filthy. The dishes pile up, the bathtub looks like something out of a horror movie. And me? I’m too busy chasing the baby to get stuff done. And when I’m not chasing him? I just want a freaking break.
I know I could clean during nap time, but then what happens to my me time? I try to get stuff done in the kitchen while he feeds himself his cereal and mum mums, but then right after I feel like a superstar for getting stuff done, I feel bad because “Oh my god, he’s been strapped into his high chair for over an hour!”
Yesterday, I got the baby laundry washed (not folded or put away, mind you), the floors swept and mopped, a wall wiped down, and the house vacuumed. I felt like a SUPERSTAR. But I also cried when he wouldn’t take a nap and spent half the day hating myself. Bad day? Yes. Superstar? Definitely not. You think after 10 months of practice I’d have this figured out….