Or, why working from home isn't all it's cracked up to be.
Today, whilst I was "working," Phoebe did the following:
Climbed into and got stuck in a mesh laundry hamper. Once liberated, strew contents of hamper down the hall and throughout the bedrooms.
Stood at the front door banging on it and yelling "Ma! Ma! Ma!" at Mallory, who was playing across the street with her friends.
Threw terrible tantrum after I closed the front door so she could no longer see Mallory.
Watched "Franklin" on Noggin. (Why is it that Franklin is the only one of his friends to have a real name? Everyone else is "Bear" or "Goose" or "Badger" or "Snail." How did Franklin get so lucky?)
Ate Honey Nut Cheerios.
Whined.
Pushed the button on her Elmo tractor that made Elmo sing "Old MacDonald Had a Farm" about 47 times.
Took a 2-hour nap. Hooray!
Ate an apple.
Read books with Mommy. Correctly identified a dog, a duck, and Cookie Monster, and meowed when shown a cat.
Liberated the contents of my wallet.
Said "poop!" when she pooped.
Opened the dog food bin and fed Finn bits of kibble, one by one, for I don't know how long before I looked up and discovered what was going on.
Screamed with rage when I tried to clean her runny nose (times twelve).
Screamed with rage because she kept dropping the passel of objects she was trying to carry around, including an Elmo figure, a Zoe figure, a book, a plastic cup, a toy lemon, a crumpled sticker, and a Winnie-the-Pooh ball.
Screamed with rage when I wouldn't let her try my Diet Coke.
Screamed with rage as I wrote this post.
Gave me two kisses.
Laughed her funny laugh.
Made me glad I was able to spend the day with her.
Comments
You are definitely working!
Holly