WAHMs don't get sick days. They get both children are sick, so I'm going to get zilch done no matter what I do days.
The reason why you don't see many novelist, with families, start their career in their twenties or early thirties is becoming clear. You try writing, editing, or proofing the next great novel when you're interrupted every two minutes to pour juice, change a diaper, or stop a toddler from trying to climb the china cabinet.
I should have named the girls Over and Under and been done with it. One loves confined spaces and being under things, anything, and the other isn't happy unless she's climbing everything in sight.
Apparently a switch is flipped in the mind when a child hits 3 1/2, making them see all their formerly favorite foods as disgusting.
Forget flash drives. Email makes for a more effective backup system.
Ceramic piggy banks are cute, but a plastic tub with a slit cut in the top won't shatter into a thousand shards if dropped.
Why are online circulars impossible to see, even on highest magnification? Isn't letting people know how low your prices are compared to other stores the whole point? It's not going to happen if they can't read the ads.
I have a whole staff. Meet crock pot, dishwasher, microwave, word processor, printer, scanner, fax, calculator, washer, dryer, vacuum, and magic eraser.
Moms don't get workers comp if they get carpel tunnel from years of changing diapers, opening sippy cup lids their husbands tried to weld shut with sheer torque, and scrubbing random sticky gunk off every surface of their homes. They get hugs, kisses, and ibuprofen.
Toddlers are nudist, even if it is 20 degrees below zero outside.
Older children make decent babysitters for younger ones as long as there is an adult in the house. They don't mind playing thirty games of peek-a-boo in a row, and they can guess what the younger one is about to do from their expression.
When are they coming out with the caffeine IV drip?
The reason why you don't see many novelist, with families, start their career in their twenties or early thirties is becoming clear. You try writing, editing, or proofing the next great novel when you're interrupted every two minutes to pour juice, change a diaper, or stop a toddler from trying to climb the china cabinet.
I should have named the girls Over and Under and been done with it. One loves confined spaces and being under things, anything, and the other isn't happy unless she's climbing everything in sight.
Apparently a switch is flipped in the mind when a child hits 3 1/2, making them see all their formerly favorite foods as disgusting.
Forget flash drives. Email makes for a more effective backup system.
Ceramic piggy banks are cute, but a plastic tub with a slit cut in the top won't shatter into a thousand shards if dropped.
Why are online circulars impossible to see, even on highest magnification? Isn't letting people know how low your prices are compared to other stores the whole point? It's not going to happen if they can't read the ads.
I have a whole staff. Meet crock pot, dishwasher, microwave, word processor, printer, scanner, fax, calculator, washer, dryer, vacuum, and magic eraser.
Moms don't get workers comp if they get carpel tunnel from years of changing diapers, opening sippy cup lids their husbands tried to weld shut with sheer torque, and scrubbing random sticky gunk off every surface of their homes. They get hugs, kisses, and ibuprofen.
Toddlers are nudist, even if it is 20 degrees below zero outside.
Older children make decent babysitters for younger ones as long as there is an adult in the house. They don't mind playing thirty games of peek-a-boo in a row, and they can guess what the younger one is about to do from their expression.
When are they coming out with the caffeine IV drip?
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