Neither of my daughters really like me being on the computer.
Briar tolerates it if we are sharing the monitor, she on the right with her Little Einsteins or crazy obscene frog video (more on the frog thing another time) and me with a smidgen of window on the other side. I slide the keyboard to the right so that I can use it without her hitting the buttons to crank the volume.

Alas, she has devised a new and exasperating (yet endearing) way to get me to abandon work at the computer. She slips between my arms as I type. I lift my arm and try to give her more space, my wrists nearly touching as I close the gap. She zips in again, her halo of golden auburn curls eclipsing my view of the keyboard and significantly diminishing my ability to see the monitor. I can’t get mad, I just sort of sputter in that oddly maddening and at the same time delicious state of frustration, I am laughing and clearing my throat as if that will somehow clear the distraction. She turns with impish eyes, her little tongue peeking out the side of her mouth as she affectionately growls “Maw-Me. Maaw-Mee!”

Avery is much the same. She has an edge over her sister in that she is still nursing and can take one of several tacks- there’s the nurse and nip OUCH a reliable mom-attention getter, or the nurse and duck- No, no, gotta keep drinking honey! another surefire typing stopper. Lately she’s been perfecting the hair gag, which involves zealous tugging, sucking and then swallowing of my hair which of course leads to gagging, striking panic in my conflicted working mom’s heart.

The other day I somehow managed to get Avery down for a nap and Briar was coloring in her Princess book..Thank you Disney, for all your Princess magic. Like catnip for little girls. I was working at the computer. Churning out great stuff, feeling like supermom-employee. Yeah.After a while Briar started weaving and chattering her way over to me. She got to the window beside the computer and started doing what is arguably one of my favorite things she does lately. She wrapped herself in the curtain, noticed it was raining and began singing the sweetest, most nonsensical little Briar-ditty about the rain. I continued hitting the keys on the keyboard, though the strokes had long since ceased to carry meaning. I was simply ensuring that I would not interrupt this magical little window serenade.

Being a working mom, whether you do it at home, at the office or both is no cake walk, but every once in a while you’re thrown a bone. A delicious, savor it for days bone.