Dawn Is Me

My bad.

I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?

Yeah, yeah, yeah … I have four children (five, if you count the spouse; six, if you count Derek) and a business to run. I’ve been busy. Deal with it.

Here’s something that arrived in my inbox a few minutes ago, a press release that said:

After serving five months in jail and another six months under house arrest, the world’s most famous Domestic Diva is back with not one, but two, new television shows, one of which debuts today. Martha, the new syndicated daytime lifestyle show, as well as The Apprentice: Martha Stewart (which starts next week) aim to re-introduce Stewart as the NEW Martha – a funnier, softer Martha in a marked contrast to the chilly, uptight Martha she was seen as before.

Now, since I write for and about microbusiness owners, I’m not sure why I’m supposed to care about the NEW Martha. But the first and only thought that popped into my irreverent mind when I read this was this:

‘Oh, I guess Martha went to jail and had that broomstick removed from up her ass while she was there.’

Other than that, into the virtual circular file it goes.

And happy Monday to you, too.

(Since I’m working this weekend, I thought I’d share this column I wrote on the subject several years ago.)

Sometimes, I work on the weekends.

Of course, I know that I’m not supposed to. I am supposed to take weekends off. That’s what weekends are for, and it seems a logical time for me to stop working. The kids have no school, the spouse doesn’t have to put in hours for his office. Nobody else is working. Why am I?

No doubt this is a testament to the warped nature of my thinking, but it is precisely because nobody else has to work that I decide I want to. My spouse doesn’t need his computer over the weekend, so I can work in the relative privacy of his office. My family needs much less supervision over the weekend, so I can get something done.

At least, that’s the theory.

But, of course, just because my spouse isn’t working over the weekend, that doesn’t mean he won’t want to use his office. After all, his computer is in there. If he doesn’t get to sit down at his computer and … er … compute for at least 3 hours every day, he starts to twitch. I give in with a good grace. After all, it is his office, and I hate to see a grown man twitch.

Besides that, the children are still there, even if I don’t have to spend quite as much time directing traffic during their weekends. Most of the time, they have their own projects that command their attention, but because they love me and don’t want me to feel neglected, they find it necessary to visit me often when I’m at work in Daddy’s office.

The twelve-year-old will stop by to ask if he can use my computer, since I’m using Daddy’s.

The ten-year-old will stop by to tell me she’s in love with the boy across the street.

The five-year-old will stop by to tell me that it’s Tuesday.

The two-year-old brings me the mustard.

The nice thing about all this is that it somehow seems less annoying when my work is interrupted by my life on a Saturday than when this happens on a Tuesday. That’s another good reason for me to work during the weekend.

Sweet and sunshiny Dawn, wondermom extraordinaire, mans the computer over the weekend. Fire-Breathing Mom, her evil twin, takes weekends off, too.

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Copyright © 2000 by Dawn Rivers Baker

It’s actually quiet around here. When does that ever happen?

As much as parents with home-based businesses complain about the summer, I find that I can get quite a bit done both inside and outside the house. That’s because I try to make a point of being really ruthless about throwing the kids out of the house fairly early in the day.

Of course, I always have to batten down the hatches and make sure I’m not on the phone around mid-day, when they come back for lunch.

Other than that, I like summer vacation. Contrary to popular belief, it’s actually a pretty mellow time.