Wednesday, April 19, 2017

Bring Your Baby To Work Day...EVERY Day!

My little Peanut turned 5 months old yesterday. It's been the most difficult 5 months of my life and I wouldn't change a second of it. Not even when he's being really difficult because it makes me appreciate him even more when he's being perfect.

I don't talk about my job much because 90% of it has to do with personal matters of the family I work for and I'm sure they'd like them to remain private. I was originally hired as the executive assistant to the Director of 7 charter schools. This position has since morphed into being the personal assistant for her family and herself. I work out of her home office and amazingly, she allows me to bring my babe to work with me every day. An absolutely priceless blessing that means everything to me.

Often, it's hard. Really hard. Every morning I try to remember to pack everything he'll possibly need for the day into the giant diaper bag and sling it over one shoulder. Grab my laptop bag and throw that over the other shoulder. Baby and car seat in one hand, coffee mug in the other. I'm a regular pack mule with an extra bag under each eye.

I balance him on my lap to feed him while trying to respond to an e-mail.

Baby Ro has a blowout and poo is making it's way towards his neck. My back is killing me so I put the changing pad on my boss's desk to change him. During my attempt to get the massive amounts of fecal matter under control, a perfect arc of yellow makes it's way over babies head and onto boss's desk. The. Hell. Ten minutes of disinfecting later I thank the stars he didn't pee on any paperwork. 

I'm asked to watch her Grand baby who is 8 months old for an hour or so. I need to nurse my teeny so I take him upstairs first (I can't carry them both) and leave him on the bed. Run back down and grab Baby D who is mobile. The bedrooms are being re-done so there are no doors on the rooms. Which is awkward but what do you do? I whip off my shirt and commence nursing. Baby D is bored and refuses to stay sequestered. He keeps trying to make a break for the hallway so he can tumble to his doom down the stairs of death. He's whining and trying to escape. I'm trying to convince him the rug on the floor is the best toy in the world while holding Ro to my breast and wishing he'd drink 5000 times faster. I'm chasing this defiant baby around the room while topless, dragging a rug with one foot and trying to feed the hungry baby. I'm positive if Baby D had had the motor skills at the time, he would have given me and that stupid rug the middle finger while scooting out of the room.

Baby D NOT giving me the finger. Which I appreciate.

I bundle Rowan up and shuffle him around the courthouse downtown, talking to three different people in three different offices before they send me to the right person. All the while, baby vomit is drying in a sour streak from my shoulder down to my waist.

Sometimes, it's ridiculous. And really really hard. But man do I love spending the day with my baby.

I'm not sure how long it will last or how long my boss will put up with it, but until then, I'm going to appreciate every day that I have him as my coworker.