Guess who's not coming to dinner
There are few things that you need to know about my job, one of these is that from time to time (not too often) I get back home late. Not very uncommon you would say. Indeed not very uncommon.
Scores of male colleagues in my last fifteen years of career have been painting this idyllic bordering sad picture of late microwaved dinners in a quiet house in front on the TV or the newspaper.
I have heard this story so often that I started to believe it was not coming out of a 1950 Doris Day movie but it could actually still be real in 2017. If it worked for them why could that not be working for me.
Deluding oneself is not a sin until reality catches up with you.
Here is the real account of my coming home after a long day at work.
I get back home, it is 19:15 I hear splashing from upstairs, OMG the kids are in bath. I run up, my husband (the hero) has fed them and put them in bath.
As soon as they see me they get hysterical, Oliver wants me to oil him up and condition his hair, at the same time I am reassuring Nora that we are going to play a game (if I win she gets a candy). Still in my office clothes with one hand I am drying Nora's hair and with the other I am combing Oliver's. My husband takes over Nora's care while I bring Oliver downstairs for his evening dose of Thomas the train.
When Nora is ready to go to bed we switch again. I move upstairs for a game of Tell to 100 game. I manage to win and Nora is ecstatic, she can get her candy.
I run to the kitchen to fetch it and I realize there is no dinner for me, no problem I will make something as soon as the kids are settled.
After a few math worksheets Nora is ready to sleep, Oliver has already turned in with Dennis and I head to the kitchen to make myself some dinner.
I have to fight my way through the pile of toys in the living room, OMG the cleaning woman is coming tomorrow! Should I ignore it and concentrate on my dinner? Would be good but I decide against it, what if I clean up in the fifteen minutes it takes to cook my tortellini burro e salvia? It is a race with myself, lets see how far I can go in parallel tasking.
In the given fifteen minutes I manage to clear up three quarters of the living room, quite an achievement I can tell you.
I eat my dinner in front of the TV and this post takes shape in my mind. As soon as I am done with my food I pick up my laptop to work on the blog before the inspiration leaves me or my body collapses (or both). Reality has definitely caught up with me.
I am sure my male colleagues know something that I do not know. No matter what I do, 1950 is not accessible to me, life keeps pushing me back to 2017. No delusion allowed!
Scores of male colleagues in my last fifteen years of career have been painting this idyllic bordering sad picture of late microwaved dinners in a quiet house in front on the TV or the newspaper.
I have heard this story so often that I started to believe it was not coming out of a 1950 Doris Day movie but it could actually still be real in 2017. If it worked for them why could that not be working for me.
Deluding oneself is not a sin until reality catches up with you.
Here is the real account of my coming home after a long day at work.
I get back home, it is 19:15 I hear splashing from upstairs, OMG the kids are in bath. I run up, my husband (the hero) has fed them and put them in bath.
As soon as they see me they get hysterical, Oliver wants me to oil him up and condition his hair, at the same time I am reassuring Nora that we are going to play a game (if I win she gets a candy). Still in my office clothes with one hand I am drying Nora's hair and with the other I am combing Oliver's. My husband takes over Nora's care while I bring Oliver downstairs for his evening dose of Thomas the train.
When Nora is ready to go to bed we switch again. I move upstairs for a game of Tell to 100 game. I manage to win and Nora is ecstatic, she can get her candy.
I run to the kitchen to fetch it and I realize there is no dinner for me, no problem I will make something as soon as the kids are settled.
After a few math worksheets Nora is ready to sleep, Oliver has already turned in with Dennis and I head to the kitchen to make myself some dinner.
I have to fight my way through the pile of toys in the living room, OMG the cleaning woman is coming tomorrow! Should I ignore it and concentrate on my dinner? Would be good but I decide against it, what if I clean up in the fifteen minutes it takes to cook my tortellini burro e salvia? It is a race with myself, lets see how far I can go in parallel tasking.
In the given fifteen minutes I manage to clear up three quarters of the living room, quite an achievement I can tell you.
I eat my dinner in front of the TV and this post takes shape in my mind. As soon as I am done with my food I pick up my laptop to work on the blog before the inspiration leaves me or my body collapses (or both). Reality has definitely caught up with me.
I am sure my male colleagues know something that I do not know. No matter what I do, 1950 is not accessible to me, life keeps pushing me back to 2017. No delusion allowed!
Comments
Post a Comment