A Day in the Life of Dissertation-Writing with Children

5:20am--Up to go running because I won't fit it in at any other time.

8am--Mister off to school. Retire to the office with Sweetie to "work" on our respective computers, side by side. Set Sweetie up on nickjr.com and begin to review what I wrote last night when I was working late. Spend 30 min to figure out what in the world I was talking about. Begin to type. 

Loud Diego music fills the room. "Al rescate, mi amigo, to the rescue, my friend. Go Diego . . . " 

Try to ignore it and keep typing.

Sweetie: "Mom, I don't like this game! I can't figure out how to rescue the dinosaur. Can you help?"

No answer.

Shrieks. "Pleeeeeease?!!!!!"

8:30am--Give up trying to block out the Diego music and child frustration. Color and read books with Sweetie instead. Run some errands.

11:10--Mister home. School debriefing, Lunch made, eaten, cleaned up.

1:30pm--Lunch over, Sweetie napping, Mister in a quiet time. Return to computer to see: "With their sweetiemistersweetiemister religious background sweetiesweetie of sisterhood sweetie and the new possibilities [kjasdnfj;kak;lsdjfl;kjl;kj;alsjdf ] afforded by the nature of sweetie sweetie mister sweeitie online writing, both of which I [sdfjiojoijwelrjl; discussed in the previous sweetiesweetie chapter," 

I guess Sweetie wasn't as done with the computer as I thought she was. After 10 min of deleting, I get to work. 

2:00pm: Mister pokes his head in. "Mom, is my quiet time over? Will you come see the Lego ships I built."

Me: "Not over yet, bud. You've still got 30 min. I'll see the ships after the timer goes off. You need to stay in your room now."

2:10pm. Mister again. "Now is it over? Can you get down some markers for me? Can I eat that last cookie? Will you pour me some milk to go with it? Can you come see the Lego ships I built?" 

2:15pm. Markers down--check; Oooed and Awwed at the Legos--check; Milk and cookie--check. Threaten to lock in room should quiet time be breached again--check. Back to work.

2:20pm. Mister, looking so sad and forlorn: "Mom, Benjamin says his best friend at school is Draque and not me. I'm only his third best friend. I want to be his first best friend. Why don't you think I'm his first best friend?" Big eyes. Sad face.

2:40pm. After consolation and discussion about the virtues of best friends verses lots of good friends, back to work. 

2:50pm. Sweetie's awake.

3pm. Two tv shows allow me to actually write a solid page.

4-9pm. Piano, soccer practice, dinner, dishes, showers, bedtime. 

9pm. Eating ice cream and blogging instead of dissertation writing. Ugh. Off to work!

My thankful three:

1. That one page! You gotta start somewhere (and hopefully, you get to END somewhere too)

2.  Rocking my baby, who is no longer a baby, to sleep--a very rare occurrence.

3.  Watching my boy play soccer--a completely joyous face is another rare occurrence.