Work ends, Work begins

I probably ‘work’ harder from 6pm-10pm than I do from 8am-5pm. I don’t have time from 6pm-10pm to engage in a lengthy coffee break conversation, to Twitter, to gossip, or to scour the office in search of leftover food. I am simply forced to do more stuff in less time. (If I had a dime for every time someone said “do more with less” let’s just say I wouldn’t be writing about being a working mother.)


Despite that I do more, I love the stuff that happens between 6pm and 10pm. First of all, I get to spend time with Robby! He smiles at me way more than anyone in the office ever would. It’s not always easy to make people laugh in the office. At home, Robby laughs when I dance, make a funny face, spin him around, or make a weird guttural sound of syllabic nonsense. Last time I tried that in the office it raised more than a few eyebrows and didn’t get me any stand-up comedy gigs. At home, I’m the cats ass. If Robby were CEO, I’d be his top aid making beaucoup bucks for doing a few tricks and preparing the occasional dinner.


The other stuff I get to do from 6pm-10pm is spend time with my husband Jude. He has the most positive, laissez-faire (in a good way) attitude of anyone! Robby just adores spending time with his father and so do I. He’s a ton of fun, makes us all laugh and teaches us not to take things too seriously.


In addition to the cool stuff, there’s also the drag of washing bottles, preparing dinner, laundry on occasion, house cleaning, packing for daycare, lunches for work, sometimes more, sometimes less. I really like my day job and it doesn’t always feel like work. I really love my evening job and it almost never feels like work. Without my day job, I wouldn’t appreciate my evening job nearly as much.


Some days I'm as weathered as a pinata at a six year-old's birthday party, but some days I feel like I scored all the candy inside. I'll suffer a few blows for some of the sweetest moments life can serve up.

Baby vs. Blackberry

You can give babies every toy known to man, but for some reason, they will always go for the one thing on the floor that is not a toy. I did a test with Robby the other day. Step 1: Surround baby with toys and get him engaged with the toys. Step 2: Place Blackberry out of reach when baby is not looking. Step 3: Wait for Blackberry procurement.
Robby took a little time to text some of his friends before he brought the Blackberry back to his den and would not take his hand off of it. Some people have dogs that eat homework, I have a baby that would probably swipe and eat my Blackberry in about three minutes. I don't think that would go over too well at the office.

A stupid cute hat

Stupid cute - an adjective used to describe something that under normal circumstances would be ridiculed, but in this instance is endearing and funny.

Babies are the prime example of stupid cute. You can dress them up in the most insane things and they keep getting cuter. The more 'flair' you add to the ensemble, the higher they score on the stupid cute scale. This may not lead to nod on Regis and Kelly's beautiful baby contest, but it certainly will get a nod of approval from parents, grandparents, and random strangers.

Hats are an accessory that scores very high on the stupid cute scale. They are an easy accessory for a baby to rock, assuming they actually like hats, and the had doesn't fly off with a gust of wind leaving you with a decision to drop the baby and chase after that damn hat or leave it blowin' in the wind. (totally kidding about leaving the baby for the hat)

I digress. Robby loves wearing hats. I think he knows how sharp he looks in them. We can thank Grandma and Grandpa for this recent newsboy number from BabyGap. Here's a picture of Grandpa and Robby. I challenge you to think of a better adjective than 'stupid cute'. Bring it on!