Working with Kids. The Unsolvable Equation.

I woke up late today. So much for Body Pump. I fear I will never see streamlined thighs again.

I find myself running around today trying to catch falling yogurt cups before they hit the floor with a splat. Racing down the stairs with the dog who can't keep up and ends up tumbling to the landing in a yelping heap. There I am again on a work phone call, scooping cheerios off a high chair tray as I try to sound coherent and intelligent while TD yells in the background. That's just a fellow co-worker about to go postal over a PowerPoint presentation, right?

Five seconds later I'm emailing Gymboree about Bubble Camp and settling TD into a good hour of Sesame Street. Meanwhile The Comedian tries to rewire our entertainment system. I swear that child will know how to hot wire a car by age two. I think about how I haven't watched anything good in the DVR for ages and realize tuition is due for the new school year. Panting I race through our billing and write off the necessary checks. A deadline for two items looms in my not too distant future. A review is waiting in the wings.

The week started off slow with me spending quality time with the girls and I'm still trying to unpack from Blogher, process what I gathered there and organize myself and my thoughts. Do I want to go next year? Yes, I do. Can I afford it? That remains to be seen. My head feels all explodey and I haven't had nearly enough caffeine. I think I might smell and I crave a good enzyme peel.

When my husband asks me what I did during the day I can barely remember it all. It is such a blur. I remember the big things like dance class and grocery shopping but not the bazillion things I did in between. Somehow faxing W-9 forms, making phone calls, doing dishes, sorting laundry, wiping baby butts, while I invoice work and simultaneously write paragraphs in my head doesn't come up when I hit the daily recall button in my brain. The house looks like I never clean it and Blogher paper bits and swag pens litter my bedroom floor. It seems as if I'm lolling the day away perusing the stacks of magazines I acquire daily and letting the girls run wild. I wish our days were that easy but then I honestly don't think I would be happy with me. I don't know if I exactly thrive in this type of situation. I would like more order in my world but kids don't equate order. Working with kids is an equation that we are all still trying to solve. It's like Healthcare reform but more complex.


And if you still crave more Blogher09 nonsense, check this video out from Tellingdad.