You would think with only one child underfoot most of the time, I should be able to keep the kid’s name straight. Apparently not so.

James came home from work the other night and we were discussing some recent policy changes his employer, eBay had made. These changes are important to me, since I have been on a PowerSeller on eBay for several years. About that time an email about those eBay changes came into my inbox and I was reading it aloud to him while supervising Eva on her potty. She said she had to go. I am starting to think “Mama, potty!” is code for, “Let me get naked and then you can read books to me for a good long time while I have your almost undivided attention.”

So, she sat down, then stood up. I told her to sit. She sat. Then stood up again. Now, from recent experience I know that she is just as likely to pee on her feet as in the potty, so I encouraged her to sit again. She did for .2 milliseconds. Then she was back up again. And I said:

“eBay! Sit down and go potty!”

As if that was not bad enough, the next day while her cousins were over I managed to call her Georgia, Emma, and Bella within a one hour window.

Can I still blame the short-term memory loss on the four months of fertility drugs (which, by the way, did not work) or do I get to blame in on sleep-deprivation from dealing with a child who can use the potty but still wakes up every two hours all night whenever she is sick or teething (ie, almost all the time)?

* The house is messier than I want to believe it can be

* I can’t get ANY work done without wet knees (12 month old clinging, sobbing, to my legs while I try to work)

* I am lucky if I get a shower before having to meet with a customer – or even before dinner

* There is always too much to do, not enough time to do it, and too many people who think I don’t really work since I am at home

* No matter how carefully I plan my day, it can all go to heck in a handcart when my little dictator decides that she is teething, cranky, clingy, or otherwise refuses to cooperate. Or it can fall apart when some other family member needs me. Or when grandma can’t babysit so I can do something that the dictator doesn’t like (sewing) or is not safe when accompanied by a 30 inch tall octupus (making soap).

Trust me, I sometimes think back longingly on those days when I had my own office with no toys in it (well, at least all the toys were mine). Those days when someone else handled everything that was not “my job.” Bookkeeping? Not MY JOB. Cleaning the bathroom? Not MY JOB. Making lunch? Hey, not only NOT MY JOB – but a group of us could go out to a REAL restaurant without asking for a highchair. Olive Garden and Sweetwater Grill are much better at lunches than I am.

Despite all of the hassles of working from home, there are also things I love so much I don’t think I could give them up.

This morning, as I have worked, I am sharing the bed with my cuddly baby girl. We have both been sick all week, so she is sleeping later than normal. As she tosses and turns, she throws her head on my shoulder or puts an arm around mine. She knows she is safe and loved, even in her sleep. Her cute little wooly pants (made by mom!) are so soft and cozy, she has kicked off the covers and her little bare feet are so cute.

Why I love being a WAHM (work at home mom):

* I was there when my daughter took her first steps – from my arms to Grandma’s

* I can take a whole day off when my cranky, sick baby needs to be rocked and cuddled (ok, so I work while she sleeps, but I can still BE here when she needs me)

* We can take a day off to go with Grandma to the doctor if needed

* Licking Cheerios and sticking them to your forehead is frowned on in fancy restuarants. I don’t know why, it makes Eva laugh out loud!

Working from home is hard. Sometimes harder than having a job ever was. But I’ll gladly trade a (finally) sleeping baby for a conference room full of suits.