Ok, so it’s Day 3 of this whole working-from-home gig, and I have to say that so far? I am not a huge fan of it.
Monday was the day that we kept Cate at home with us, and Dave and I tried to take shifts so that we could each get our work done. I would now like to laugh at myself for ever thinking that could work. Basically, when it’s Dave’s shift with the baby, I have to hide in my office, because if she so much as catches a glimpse of me, she will scream her ever-loving head off until I pick her up. And have I mentioned how it’s impossible for me to concentrate on anything if I can hear her crying? I know God gave us that Protective Mama Bear instinct for a reason, but man, sometimes I wish it had an off switch and I could just tune it out.
Tuesday and today, Cate’s been at daycare, which is good as far as my work productivity, but man, I hate leaving her there when she’s crying. It just rips my heart out. I know she’ll get over it as time goes on, but I’m not sure I will.
I just keep reminding myself of how much we really need this money – especially since our stupid adjustable-rate mortgage is about to go up again next month, and oh my god, I just want to finish getting this house fixed up (which, again, requires money) so we can get the hell out of here. And you better believe we will read every single word of every document before we sign another mortgage. Stupid AmeriQuest bastards.
Totally unrelated: I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned it here, but my dad is not a big animal lover. When I was pregnant, I lost count of how many times he told me that we should get rid of all four cats before the baby was born. I told him that was ridiculous, because it’s not like we’re raising pit bulls here. When was the last time you read a story in the paper about a small child who was mauled by a housecat? It just doesn’t happen.
“What if one of them scratches her in the eye?” he said.
“Oh please, what are the odds of that?” I replied.
You see where this is going, right? This morning, Cate was playing happily in the bathroom with me while I was getting dressed. Teenie was lying on her side on the bathmat – because, you know, when Mama goes to the bathroom, everybody has to join the party. Cate crawled over to Teenie and tried to rub her face on the cat, like she always does. Teenie got up really quickly, and in the process of doing so, she scratched Cate across the cheek with one of her hind legs. It was a total accident, not malicious in any way on Teenie’s part, and in fact she ran and hid when Cate started to scream.
Luckily the scratch didn’t get her eye, it was just a couple of inches off. It was pretty minor, didn’t even break the skin. But just so I never have to hear “I told you so” from my dad, I’m going to avoid taking any pictures for the next couple of days until it heals completely. And hopefully he’ll never read this blog entry. (Not a big stretch, since I don’t think he ever reads this site anyway.)
And another random topic jump: it’s national delurking day, so say hi.