This has felt like a long week--maybe because I am more than ready to have a week off. David called me on Tuesday afternoon. I was at home. It had been a frustrating morning--Cooper disappeared on me while the baby was napping, and wouldn't come when I called for him. A quick check of the backyard showed no sign of him, but revealed that the back gate that appeared to be closed actually wasn't latched, so I got kind of panicky. Coco was sleeping, so I quickly ran down to the restaurant on the corner to make sure he hadn't somehow launched himself into their garbage, and forced myself to peek out on the busy street to make sure he wasn't there.
Not wanting to leave the baby alone any longer, I went back home and spent the next twenty minutes trying not to cry, imagining every worst-case scenario, thinking about how I'd yelled at him over the weekend, pacing the living room, e-mailing our neighbors to alert them that our dog was missing, and wondering if I should go ahead and go wake up Coco so we could go out to find Cooper.
When Coco woke up from her (very short) nap, I bundled her up to go out in the stroller, in the rain, to look for the dog.
And after getting her into her hoodie and rain jacket and finding a blanket to wrap around her, when I opened the backdoor, there was Cooper. Filthy--coated in mud--and looking very ashamed of himself.
I'm not sure if he'd been in the chicken coop or the garden or if he'd gotten out of our yard and ventured somewhere else through the alley, but he had to have a bath, and Coco didn't want to be put down, and when David called me back to see how things were going, I vented about the naughty dog and the clingy baby and complained that I hadn't gotten any work done. I needed to read a play for class and write an exam for Friday and I hadn't factored in the dog bath and the baby only wanted to be held, so nothing was getting done.
David told me that I should just take Coco to daycare and get things done so that I could enjoy my time with her once I was finished.
He has a point--I do believe that I have much more fun with my kids if I'm not stressed out about what's not getting done.
But then Coco fell asleep on my chest like she used to do when she was a teensy newborn. And I remembered why I'm doing this stay at home thing two days a week.
Yes, it can be frustrating. But having a sleeping baby curled up on your chest on a rainy Tuesday afternoon while listening to the dog snore and thinking of questions to ask your students about Romantic poetry is pretty much the greatest way to work ever.
Even if not much work gets done once she's awake.