No, I Did Not Take a Shower Today, What's It To Ya?

The past three days have gone by in a blur, filled with snippets of eyes blinking furiously while staring at the computer screen and me yelling in frustration at my daughter's neverending abundance of energy and new insistence in telling me off every chance she gets. The little devil, she is lucky she is cute, because in these uncertain financial times, I may just have been a teensy weensy bit tempted to sell her to some gypsies or polygamists.

I was under a deadline this week, which drastically put a damper on my "work at my own pace and do various things other than working throughout the day" style that I have been rocking with abandon lately. Usually, I have my work done ahead of time, but I have been very busy stressing out and have definitely not been as productive as usual. It has not helped that my 2 1/2-year-old daughter has decided that mommy does not, in fact, need to work but should be chasing after her, stifling her attempts to flood the bathroom in her many, many instances of washing her hands or brushing her teeth or ingesting large quantities of multivitamins that she somehow got her grubby little hands on AND managed to open despite the ever reliable CHILD SAFETY CAP.

No, I did not shower today. This is one of the many perks of working at home. I can go DAYS without changing my clothes or showering, and the only person that notices (sometimes) is my husband, but I have found that layering on the deoderant and spraying pheromone-infused powder all over my bod actually tricks him enough so that he doesn't turn up his nose at spooning with me nor is he ever the wiser that he is doing the horizontal mambo with one of the unwashed masses. Don't get me wrong, I never go more than a couple of days without showering, and on those days that I don't, I always wash my face and other "bits" that I would not want to be untended to on the off days. I'm not an animal...

One of the games that my daughter and I play during the day (and by games, I mean things that she does to slowly drive me insane) is when I really need a little quiet time so I offer to put in a movie for her. This is how it goes EVERY GODDAMN TIME:

Me: Do you want to watch a movie baby?

Baby Girl: YES Mommy! A movie!

Me: OK, good. What movie do you want to watch?

BG: A movie!

Me: But WHICH ONE do you want to watch?

BG: Ummmm....a movie Mommy!

Me: (now losing my patience) WHAT MOVIE do you want to watch sweetie? What's the NAME of the movie you want to watch?

BG: A DVD!!!

This is the part where I list EVERY SINGLE dvd that we own in hopes that she will hear one that sparks her interest and say yes, that is indeed the one she wants. After about 3 dozen or so have been listed, she will eventually say "yes, that one!" and I will proceed to put that dvd in the dvd player, thankful for a few minutes to get some actual work done.

However...

about five minutes into the movie she usually sits up and says "NO, I don't want 'insert name of currently playing dvd here'" and in return I say (gritting my teeth) "Then which movie do you want?"

"A MOVIE!"

If anyone ever finds a children's film called "MOVIE," please send it to me ASAP because apparently my collection is lacking one very important dvd.

One thing I do find, though, is that I am so much more productive when I am rushing to get things done for a deadline. Which makes me think perhaps I need to give myself some deadlines for doing laundry or cleaning the house. Maybe then I won't let it go until it is so overwhelming that all I want to do is ignore it, climb into bed and pull the covers over my head. I keep telling myself that all I have to do is get through the next few years until I can afford a housekeeper and/or the children are old enough to be used as my personal slaves. Either one works for me.

I did get my work done on time, thank goddess. And I did not sell my daughter or tie her up or anything else that the authorities and the department of social services frowns upon. As a matter of fact, when I finished this afternoon, I pushed away my laptop table and looked at my daughter who said expectantly "You all done Mommy?" to which I said "yes, I am." She climbed into my lap and nuzzled her face into my neck. She didn't care that I hadn't showered. All the frustrations of the past few days disintegrated from my memory.

And I remembered, once again, why I do it.