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.