


I’m not one for kvetching about working mother woes. I wrote and freelanced at home for eight years and let me tell ya, it’s absolute heaven to put on some lipstick and go work at a quiet, unsticky desk were no one’s flicked the “caps lock” button off my computer keyboard while I wasn’t looking.
I’m extra fortunate that my husband has a flexible job that allows him to pick the kids up from school in the afternoons. Except that the last day of preschool was yesterday. And summer camp doesn’t start ‘til Monday. Which explains why there is a curly-haired midget in my cubicle right now making rainbow art out of highlighter pens and arranging pushpins into stick people.
Fortunately, the gnome is bribe-able: I told her she could put temporary tattoos anywhere on her body if she’d keep quiet until Daddy got here to take her to lunch.


If he doesn’t get here soon, she’s going to look like Amy Winehouse.
xoxo tcb