I've had my grandson all week. I purposely decided to limit my work load -- the blessings of being a freelance writer -- but the little bit of work I had to do during the day has been, well, interesting. I try to get those little chores done with interruptions of "Granny, I need 'stachios"; "Granny, I need a 'nack"; "Granny, can I pway wif you fwogs?" And so on.
Don't get me wrong. I love the little guy to pieces and we've had a lot of fun this week. We've been to the park, to the library, to the bookstore, to the Y swimming pool, and so on. We're watching Penn State play basketball now. But trying to get work done? I thought about writing at night, but by the time I get him to bed and read him 5 stories and then wait to see if he will be wandering back downstairs . . . well, by then I'm too exhausted to write and have vegged out with a novel.
So my hats are off to moms who work from home with toddlers and preschoolers around. That we as parents survive the years until the kids starts school shows that parents really can survive anything.