Working from Home, not Working from Home and Hanging Out with my Kids

A few months ago I made the decision to stop my 1.5 hour round trip commute I’d been doing for 12 years and began working from home.

My husband and I put a lot of thought into this before making the move. From a career standpoint, I needed more privacy than the cube-farm could allow, and didn’t have an option for an office. My job also entails a very large number of conference calls and working with people in a variety of different locations, so essentially I was driving into work each day, sitting at my desk on the phone for 8-10 hours, then getting in my car and driving home. I very rarely was able to stop for lunch, had very little human interaction outside of phone calls, and although I had standing weekly appointment to go to Starbucks, it was getting more rare to have that date than not. My company is very supportive of virtual employees, and a number of co-workers, as well as my immediate manager all work from home as well. So while this isn’t always an option, as long as I stay with my current employer working from home shouldn’t have a negative impact on my career growth.

Being an Introvert by nature (I took the Myers Brigg test, so it’s all official and stuff), I’m completely comfortable being by myself for large periods of time. Which is good, because, you know…I live on a farm in the middle of nowhere and it’s more unusual than not for me to see people I’m not somehow related to.

Working from home has taken some getting used to, but luckily I have a number of co-workers who also work from home full time so they could give me some insight. Here are the top questions I get now that I work from home full time:

1. “Oh, you work at home? How do you manage that with kids?”

This is the NUMBER ONE question I get. By the way, my male co-workers with kids don’t get the same question, which absolutely infuriates me, but that may be a topic for another day. Here’s how I handle working at home when I have kids: they go to day care, same as they did before.

I work at home. This means I have an office that I go to every day, I have computer, monitors, phone…pretty much everything I had before in my “regular” office. Only now I have three walls that are whiteboard and my commute is me going from my kitchen to my office, on the other side of the kitchen. However, what this doesn’t mean is that I work at home with my kids also at home.

The only exception to working at home with kids is if one of them is sick, and then we also do exactly what we did before: juggle who watches the kids and who works, ask Nana if we need to, and supplement with lots of Sesame Street or Daniel the Tiger. I just read an article about watching Sesame Street making your kids smarter, so really I feel like I’m doing them a favor by streaming it. If we need to either my husband or I will take the day off. This is the same process we followed before I worked at home. I like to call it, “our version of parenting sick kids.” I guess the only other exception is when I have to work on weekends, then there's no getting around my kids being home with me.

What happens when my kids are sick at home: my office gets trashed and Sesame Street streams on Netflix for hours.

This is a weekend checkout. Someone woke up early and wanted to help.

2. “That must be nice, you get to drink whenever you want."

So…I mean, technically, I guess? I’ve been asked if I drink Kahlua in my coffee in the morning (No, I drink International Delight Cinnabon creamer). Or if I have a glass of wine starting at 4 (um…no. I usually wait till around 5:30. Ok, it’s really 5.)

I’ve found, and confirmed this with other work-from-home people, that when you work at home full-time you need to have a mechanism to keep work and home separate. This means I don’t drink at work, just like I didn’t when I drove into the office every day. People frown at you when you add Kahlua in your coffee every morning, bottle in hand while you go to a staff meeting. Bottom line: you just don't do it.

3. “So you get to go to work in your pajamas? That must be awesome.”

Hell yeah, it is!

4. “Don’t you miss being around people?”

I’m fortunate enough that I get to travel periodically to either conferences or brick-and-mortar sites that I still get to see the people I work with pretty frequently. I can also make that same drive into the office that I've done the previous 12 years if I need to. Plus I buy groceries and stuff, and there are usually people there.

5. “Aren’t you less productive?”

No. I actually have to stop myself from working too much, because it’s all right here, available 24/7. If I don’t watch the time I’ll find myself working from when everyone leaves in the morning until they get home, which is usually right around 11 hours later.

So far the only complaint I have working from home is that the cafeteria sucks.

Finding The Time

I noticed it’s been a little over a year since I’ve written anything. This is amusing to me, as the piece I had been working on last May was about the time between 5:03 AM and 5:45 AM. What’s that 42 minute time frame, you might ask? It was the time of day I had all to myself. And sometime in the last year I haven’t found the time to write about finding time…

I made the decision to get up at 5:03 because I felt like getting up before 5 AM is nothing short of ridiculous unless you’re getting on an airplane to go somewhere exotic. With a beach. And someone bringing you drinks. While you lie on the beach. Generally speaking, this is not my life. My life is a marriage, managing two small children, two dogs, a full time job, being a friend, sister, daughter, with the occasional exotic vacation thrown in just to keep things interesting.

Crane Beach in Barbados. I've been here. 

Between 5:03 and 5:45 I would feed the dogs, make breakfast…medium egg on one of those thin bread/sandwich things, toasted, with a little bit of salsa and a slice of cheese. ¼ cup of oatmeal mixed with honey and blueberries. My first cup of coffee. I would watch the news and read a book. I didn’t have to talk to anyone. It was quiet. Peaceful.  And for those wondering when I became old and boring and started watching the news, I’m guessing about 11 years ago when I moved out here and no longer had cable so I couldn’t watch HGTV…oh, that doesn’t make me any cooler?

You know what that time was? ME TIME. I used it every day. It was fantastic, and I willingly woke up that early five days a week. So that was the last blog I was working on—making sure to take time for yourself and finding that time each day/week, whatever you need. I needed time each day to myself, with quiet, where I could read a book. I understand this isn’t for everyone—my husband goes for a run. I run so I don’t have to buy bigger clothes. I don’t consider time spent hoping I don’t die as constructive “me time.” But hey, no judgment.

And then something happened—I started working from home full time. Working from home is amazing. I get up over an hour later, the amount of time it takes me to get ready in the morning is sometimes limited to washing my face and brushing my teeth, and  I’m saving about 2 hours a day just in drive time. Love it!!

I’m now almost six months into working from home and one thing I haven’t really figured out is a schedule. That “me” time that I had each day? I somehow lost it. Maybe because I’m now home almost all the time, so quiet time in the morning isn’t as meaningful? Now I feel like my “time to recharge” involves me leaving the house and being around adults I’m not related to…usually doing exciting things like buying groceries. The only downside to this is sometimes I word-vomit to complete strangers. It’s awkward.

Actually, is it more awkward to word-vomit to complete strangers, or to slight acquaintances that you have to see every week at your 4 year old’s tumbling class? Not that it’s ever happened…

Yes, my dear, everything does always happen at once

Yesterday was my first day back at work. It almost didn't happen.

The day after President's Day Miss G came home from day care with a temperature of 103.1 (which was gone the following day) and a cough. Vachel promptly got sick, followed by Little V getting sick as well. V couldn't seem to shake a horrible cough, although her temperature wasn't ever really high. I finally took her to the doctor, where she was diagnosed with RSV. We were five days into a generally seven day illness. That meant no day care on Friday. Luckily my girls have an awesome Nana, who cleared her schedule for Friday to do the important task of snuggling with my baby in a room with a humidifier. Even though my mom immediately said she could watch V, my boss almost got a telephone call at 10 PM (11 his time) telling him I couldn't do it ("it" being go to work while V was sick). I was quite literally in tears thinking about leaving her when she didn't feel well. Pretty much the only thing that got me in the car pointed towards Des Moines the next morning was the absolute faith that my mom was watching over her and nothing would happen. And on Monday day care will just have to deal with my 15 minute lecture on how she needs to be kept propped up and what to do during a coughing fit, as well as my subsequent phone calls to check on her. The teachers in the infant room are great and have a ton of experience with babies so they probably don't need my lecture, but they're going to get it anyway.

Poor sick kiddo

 In the midst of all of the sickness that hit my house (how I escaped I'll never know, but I'm knocking on wood as I type) all I could think about was how much everything would SUCK if I was trying to deal with all of this while working. I was sleeping in a recliner with V to make sure she was propped up. We could at least give G an organic cough suppressant designed for toddlers to help her sleep, but she was still waking up throughout the night. Vachel was no help. He worked from home one day and I came into our room while he was on a conference call to see him face down on the floor next to the phone. He was awake and participating when he had to, but he felt so horrible he couldn't even sit at his desk. Our kitchen sink started leaking all over the floor and into the basement. All of this is beside the point. My point is that in the middle of the night Tuesday I decided I needed a reward for making it through this week and going back to work so I ordered a box of Godiva Ultimate Dessert Truffles from my good friend Amazon, and due to the fantasticness of my Amazon Prime account knew my truffles would be here when I got home from work Friday. Vachel was feeling moderately better last night so I asked him to watch both girls while I went up to our Jacuzzi bath, lit some candles, poured a glass of wine, grabbed a book, opened my truffles, and set about relaxing.

Bath + Wine + Chocolate = Heaven

Did I mention this was Vachel's first time taking care of both girls without me running interference?

There I was, sitting in my well-deserved bubble bath, drinking wine and eating chocolate, when I can hear V start to cry. Then I hear Gus, the dog, sprinting past the door and down the stairs, followed by Vachel. A few moments later, V is still crying, and I hear, "Daddy, I have to go potty." Next thing I know Vachel is coming in, holding G's hand, trying to coral her towards the potty. G, however, was distracted by the fact I was in her bath tub. Vachel's face was absolutely comical. He was clearly stressed, trying to push one kid towards the toilet and help her while the other one was crying for a bottle. I had no intention of getting out of the tub, and he didn't ask me to. He looks at me, half panicked, and says, "Everything is happening all at once!" I started to laugh. He didn't find it that amusing. Welcome to my life!

I've noticed you can go for long stretches of time with nothing major happening, and then all of a sudden everything happens all at once. This isn't just with kids; you'll only spill coffee on your clothes when you're already running late. The dog only pees on the floor right before people come over to the house. I'm pretty sure it's one of Newton's Laws.  While this phenomenon isn't restricted to those with small children, I've noticed a definite increase in this type of situation with two kids. For example, while attempting to potty train G (while Vachel was gone for eight days--I was stupid) she pooped in her underwear. I plopped her on the toilet and ran to get wipes to clean her up. She then got off the toilet and finished her business on the floor. V started screaming because she needed a diaper change. My phone rang. Gus started barking. Trying to clean up her mess I clogged the toilet. Before that? Totally calm. G and I playing, V napping, Gus laying on the couch. 15 minutes after that, back to the status quo. But that 15 minutes...if there would have been any other adult in the vicinity I would have handed them both kids and the dog, told them there was a mess to clean up in the bathroom and I would be back in a few hours.

It's amazing how two people so skilled at prioritizing and dealing with multiple issues of increasing complexity at work can be so out-of-sorts when dealing with two small children and one dog. I at least have a measly 12 weeks of experience to fall back on when it comes to prioritizing (hint: the one who needs to go to the bathroom and not wearing a diaper always wins). But the look on his face as he tried to herd G towards the toilet while V screamed in the background...

That one day I did stuff

Two weeks from tomorrow I return to work. Which means that two weeks from today will be my last day of maternity leave, and last day at home with the amazing little girl who just discovered smiles. All of a sudden realizing I have a deadline, I felt like I should start doing more than hanging out in my pj's watching Netflix and snuggling with my baby. Not much more, mind you. I'm still in my pj's while V alternates between smiling at herself in the mirror and napping on her play mat.

Best looking girl around!

Last night hubby returned from an eight day trip to two separate conferences, one was an APEX conference designed for networking and leadership training for agriculture leaders. The second was for U.S. Grains Council, which helps determine both national and international grain policy. He may be out making a difference in agriculture for our farm, the state of Iowa and the nation, but I kept a 2.5 year old and a 2 month old alive for eight days and didn't lose my sanity. Beat that!

To celebrate his homecoming, G and I made a cake. She wanted a pink Abby Cadabby cake, but I'd already bought the chocolate cake mix and my culinary skills don't extend to actual decorations. My best friend Duncan Hines does all of the work for me. We made this last night and when he woke her up this morning to go to day care her first words to him were, "Hi Daddy, I made you a cake. Can we eat it?" Those two are definitely related. I was shocked there wasn't a piece missing when I went downstairs this morning.

Decorations of a 2.5 year old

This morning I was super ambitious and decided to make banana bread with my old bananas, treats for day care's Valentines Day party tomorrow AND do the dishes. Normally I just pick one thing a day and today I aimed for three.V was in her swing looking at the poster G and I made for her, so I started with the banana bread since that takes longer. This was only interrupted by V spitting up all over herself, requiring a bath and outfit change. Back into the swing to finish the banana bread, and onto the pink heart shaped Rice Krispie treats. Since she was still entertained by the poster and swing combo I decided to clean up after myself instead of piling all the dishes on the counter and waiting for my husband to come home.

All of this before noon! I'm not quite sure how I'm going to manage any "extras" such as cake, Rice Krispie treats and banana bread for the first few weeks back at work. Adjusting to life with a newborn and toddler without working was hard enough, the extra stress and hours away are just going to mess with what little routine I've established (this current routine does not include getting up at 5 AM and getting everyone out the door in a timely manner). With this in mind, I want to get in as much as I can now. That way when my husband complains about me not making dinner or something I can reply with, "Hey remember that one time I made stuff? And you didn't have to do the dishes afterward?"