As if on a regular fortnightly cycle, Dylan was sick again this week, and yesterday it was my turn to stay with him at home. As, by now, both of us are quite sick leave deprived, my plan was to do as much work as I can during Dylan’s daytime sleeps so I can squeeze half a day worth of work out.
Dylan, however, had a nice little surprise in store for me. By 8:30 he was so tired that he virtually fell asleep on his change table, so I put him to bed despite his protests. He woke up crying but I managed to keep him in bed till 11:45. After lunch and a [glass] bottle he was tired yet again and slept all the way from 13:30 to 17:15. We were actually afraid he wouldn’t sleep at night, but he slept through like a nice little brick. Obviously, he was doing my good old trick, the trick I’m no longer able to perform myself: Dylan was sleeping his sickness off.
We actually kept Dylan home today, too, as he hardly gets to sleep at childcare: they specify him sleeping two half hour to three quarter of an hour sleeps, but these are rather optimistic appraisals – they count the time since putting him in bed rather than the time since he actually falls asleep. Besides, at home his daytime sleeps’ total is more like three to four hours long.
You may find the above statistics boring; I don’t. Dylan’s sleep time is our rejuvenation time: the time to sort the place up, clean up the kitchen, do the errands, eat something, and maybe even get a bit of a rest. Sleep is not only good for Dylan and his developing brain, it’s mighty good for us, too. You learn to cherish sleep with as much zeal a religious person gives away to his/her imaginary friend.
Thus yesterday ended up being quite great, work wise. I was actually able to do an entire working day from home! I was so excited with the realization that this is happening I felt myself a year younger, living at that prehistoric era before Dylan popped out, a time in which being home meant being at a calm, relaxing, place. A time when being at home meant you can do whatever you feel like doing.
Working from home, without the pressure of a constantly demanding baby, is also great. For a start, you don’t need to devote two hours of your life just to get there and back again (not to mention the Connex pleasure ride). You can dress yourself with a tracksuit that looks as attractive as used toilet paper just because it’s the most comfortable dress ever. You have great internet surfing facilities at your disposal, with not a hint of blockage. You can stick a DVD of Cream Live at Albert Hall and enjoy some great music while you work. You have the kitchen cupboard’s chocolate at your disposal. You don’t get nagging calls and emails.
In short, it’s just great. It’s a reminder of what life used to be like at the era when life meant taking care of yourself as opposed to dedicating yourself virtually fully to someone else.