"Mommy, your work is ruining the day!"

So I quit working fulltime because I was expecting No. 2 and I just couldn't imagine a life were I could give two the total love and focus I wanted to give and work full-time.

But last week, my son said to me, "Mommy, your work is ruining the day!" Oh, how those words crush.

Now, to be fair to me, we'd just wrapped up a two-day visit from his grandpa. He'd spent the morning playing with grandpa before we drove him to the airport. Then we followed up with a special treat--lunch at his favorite restaurant, then a play date with his best friend. While his baby sister was napping, I tried to grab 15 minutes of editing before the big event. We we planned a special night out at the Sesame Street Live performance. But my 15 minutes elicited an angry comment from my son.

Friends, it hurt. I try to only work when my children are sleeping or at preschool (a tall order, as you know!) But sometimes you just need a few extra minutes.

Don't feel bad. When I catalog the attention I give my children every day, I realize the guilt is unfounded. They are always the first priority. But to expect ourselves to always be on—ready to play, ready to be the cargiver, the servant—when our children are awake ... that's not reasonable, either, is it?

Trust me. You are an amazing mother. Your children will have countless memories of the love you displayed. Some will come from events you'll never remember—making the peanut butter and jelly sandwich, helping them make that very special snowman. You can't predict what that moment will be. I know, because I've tried. You just have to give your love every day and trust that they see it in your actions.

So don't stress the small stuff.

Early to bed, early to rise

I love that phrase, and I like the concept. But I don't live it. I wish I did. On mornings where I'm up first (like today, when my morning started at 4:45 a.m.), I use the time to write. But this only works if you also go to bed early. Otherwise, you're just asking to fall victim to post-lunch slump.

Here's my concern. I think women take on too much. If you're like me, you're often the last to bed, perhaps the first to rise, and the self-care you need just isn't happening. When I hear the to-do lists of my friends and colleagues, I realized we're all part of a not-so-exclusive club: an over-committed, over-worked, and under-paid sisterhood. Is this true for you? Check out the poll at the top right-hand corner of the page and let us know if you're in the club too.

But where do you live?

Ever been to someone's immaculately groomed house? I'm always envious at first. No whatnots or geegaws. No magazine stack or letter piles. No dishes in the sink, no coffee cups on the table or toys on the floor.

After the first bout of admiration fades, I begin to notice other things. No books on the end table. The fluffy towels are for guests (read: don't touch) and the pillow arrangement on the bed is so intimidating I don't feel comfortable resting there.

And I wonder, where do these people live? Do they drink and eat, read and sleep? Or is every action a chore, because the house must be meticulously maintained at all times?

Where do they live?

Doe-MESS-sticity

I've often fancied myself a writer/editor type who jumped at the career change to freelance to be able to spend more time with my two young children. But this premise leaves me with a few life balance quandaries.

In the abstract, the hierarchy is simple: family, freelance work, housework. But the reality is a little different for a couple of reasons.

The first, quite simply, is that the housework interferes. Taking care of the kids and he spouse requires a fair amount of maintenance housework—at the very least, daily kitchen duties and laundry. And the dining room table needs to be cleaned to make a space for board games and crafts. And how can we possibly make a train track if the carpet hasn't been cleared and vacuumed?

Add to that my natural aversion to working amongst a mess—something I've had to simply overcome, because the alternative means I'll never get anything done.

My writing life can be just as big a mess as my house. First off, I'm a split personality, craving the money producing freelance work and the time to enjoy writing and editing my fiction. I need the freelance work, because there's something properly fulfilling about getting paid for something I like to do. But I also believe that achieving success in the fiction market requires keeping regular hours as a fiction writer. In essence, writing and editing daily. Treating fiction as my business.

That can be a real leap for me, because I often feel I'm stealing time for a "hobby" (god, I hate that word) because I'm unpublished. And wouldn't it be more productive to be cleaning house right now?

Well, I'll admit this is all mostly rambling because my core plan remains the same. I will still opt for writing over laundry often enough to keep me balanced and hope my spouse can forgive me when my absentminded approach to chores means I've accidentally stained his favorite college t-shirt (yes, really. Sorry, honey!)

What are you balancing in your life?

Out of focus

I do everything in two to three minute movements, so I rarely feel focused on one task. I'm often working to a symphony of, "Mommy, can I have a glass of water?" and the primitive grunts and leg tugging of my one year old.

So things don't always get done the way they should. The water bill gets missed in the stack of junk mail and I sheepishly discover it a few days later when I'm stacking the magazines I subscribe to but never get a chance to read. The laundry gets stacked but I don't notice the stack of folded socks until I sit on them. And if it doesn't make it on the calendar, it doesn't happen.

I like to blame it on constant distractions from my two little whirling dervishes. And I sometimes remember with great fondness the long stretches of quiet thinking time I used to enjoy at work when I shut my office door.

Still, I'd rather be getting some done with my two little distractions than checking off everything on my list while someone else gets cuddles from my babies.

Where do you find the time ... ?

I hate this question, because it's a loaded one. Answer one way, and you're bragging. Another, and you're blowing them off.

"Where do you find the time to do freelance work? Write a book? Paint the bedroom?" And the unasked question, "What didn't you do so you could work/write/paint?" This immediately conjures images of laundry piles ignored and children wandering listlessly around the house, dirty and bored.

We all instinctively know what's possible during a day. And you'll never meet another person whose priorities are perfectly matched to your own. The real question is, does the family work? Is the dynamic working for everyone?

Things are easier for me this year than last. Last year, I had a newborn and a three year old who went to school two times a week. This year, my one year old naps while why four year old goes to school three afternoons a week. And I have a babysitter who comes by for a couple hours once a week so I can run the errands and do the tasks that are less kid friendly (who wants to stand at the DMV with children?)

There's been a stiff learning curve, but I'm feeling like we're finally managing to strike a healthy balance that gives me some adult time. And the trips we take to the zoo and the playground together are much more fun when I'm refreshed.

So I'm riding a high of welcome personal time and hoping it continues. And if I do laundry one less time each week to finish a chapter, everyone in my household seems to understand.

The best choice for you

A little over a year ago, I quit work to stay home with my kids. My son, D, was 3, his sister a newborn. D had been going to school at the same preschool for three years--since he was 4 and a half months old. And he had a crew of friends he'd hung with—literally—since birth.

So I guess it should be no surprise that, as we were preparing for his birthday party this weekend, he asked me, "Mommy, can we invite Ian?"

He hasn't seen Ian in a year. But in his 3-year-old mind, his best friend Ian has to be at his birthday party. And his favorite teacher of all time is definitely Ms. Tina, his last teacher at daycare.

Sure, he went to a preschool this year for about five hours a week to make friends and continue learning in a school-like setting. But his heart is still with his old class and his old friends.

Ask him any day, "Do you want to go to see Ian and Ms. Tina or stay home with mom and see your new friends?" He definitely prefers me at home.

Sometimes he still asks, "Mom, are you not going to go to work anymore?" I explain I work at home now—taking care of him and his sister and doing freelance work. But I don't need to feel bad about the time he spent in daycare. The pluses were numerous. His daycare was at his daddy's office, so he got daddy time on their rides in. My husband visited him at breaks and lunchtime, going down to give bottles of expressed milk when he was an infant and then just to play and visit when he got older.

With a new family member in the house, it was time for me to be here. More time for both kids, and for my husband. We eat healthier and live healthier in a more stress free environment. But ... sometimes I still feel a little guilty for taking D away from his favorite friends and teachers. Heck, there are no easy choices. We're all just doing the best we can, right?

Fight or flight

I've got a buzz going and it's not from coffee this morning. I haven't had a drop ... yet. It's that extra boost of energy you get when your plate is so full there's no time for anything else.

Have you ever had that tingly sensation and been stymied? You have a ton to do but the stars don't align? In my case, I'm praying for good kiddie karma today. Long naps, happy play next to me while I'm working on projects. Then, as soon as I'm finished, some fantastically fun adventure. Got any suggestions?

But first, about that coffee ...