Working Mother

Well, that went well.

I’ve been shaking the virtual network to see if I could dislodge any writing work now that the boys are both out at school at least part of the time.

This morning I had my first business call in several years, all scheduled and ready to go.

Then G woke up looking pale.

I took him to school along with A, and hesitated outside the door before deciding he was probably just tired (even though my instinct said “no, he’s sick”), and shoved him in the door.

As I was explaining to the teacher that he was pale and she should call me if she needed me, she said,

“Actually, one of my parent-helpers for the trip to the library just dropped out. Can you come?”

Almost any other morning I could have done it (let’s face it, the Monday morning Pilates is nice, but I could skip it). Cursing the timing I excused myself and jogged home (well, speed-walked).

So my call came; we did the preliminary catching up and had just started on the business at hand when my cell phone started bleating. I knew, of course, straight away. I didn’t even have to check the number to know it was the school.

I had to cut off the business call and go and fetch my retching wretch.

We’ve reschedule for Friday morning and luckily for me my business friend is a father to young kids and probably understands.

Getting actual work done is fine. If G had waited another three quarters of an hour to hurl I could have used this time, while he’s sleeping it off) to do actual work. It’s just the phone calls and meetings that are the tricky part.

Somewhere a hardline conservative is shaking their head and saying, that’s what she gets for trying to divide her attention.

‘Scuse me while I pop my shoes off and get back into the kitchen.

Sigh.

(Happily, I think G is going to recover.)

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