Let me preface this by saying that I love working at home. That’s not what this is about. What amazes me about the work at home culture is that people fail to realize what it means. I. work. at. home. Yep, that means there’s a designated area of my home that is my office. It contains a phone, a desk, a printer/copier/fax/scanner device that I adore, files, books and other office acoutrements that make working easier. I have a Swingline stapler. Don’t touch it.

From Monday through Friday, from a little before 8am and sometimes well after 5pm, I’m in that office and my head? My head is somewhere else. I’m not thinking about the rest of the building that surrounds me. I’m not tempted to vacuum, do dishes or laundry. That’s stuff I have to do when I’m not working. I don’t like it. I dash upstairs to the kitchen to grab nourishment when I’m hungry. I dash back down with a plate or a cup of coffee, afraid I’m going to miss a minute of work, work that I love. On the weekend and most evenings, I close that office door and walk away, happy to pretend that the office does not exist, or does exist, just not in my home.

When I’m in my office zone I’m thinking about my clients, I’m working on projects that will ultimately help their businesses or organizations. I’m nurturing relationships with clients, co-workers and potential clients. I’m not at home, I’m at work. I have a separate phone line and do not answer the home phone. Often, I’m not aware the home phone is ringing. If someone rings the doorbell, I will probably not answer, likely I’m on a conference call and couldn’t, even if I wanted to.

The reason for this rant? The fellow working mom who suggested she’d just drop her daughter by to play with mine in the event of a snow day this winter. You know, because I’m home.

When I’m at work I don’t even like it when my own children are home. In the summer, my daughter goes to camp all day. I’ve resorted to taking vacation and personal days when the kids have random days off school (this is great for scheduling checkups and other time absorbing visits). I’m not able to give them the attention they deserve, and I can’t concentrate on work when I’m wondering what else might be going on in the house. The last thing I need is someone else’s kid to further complicate the issue.

What I love about this issue is how the stay-at-home moms with whom I’m friends totally get this; they completely understand the working at home ethic, the strict scheduling required and the need to adhere to rules of space and time. It’s the working moms who retreat to offices full time, offices where children are not welcome and bosses value more the employee with no family than those who have obligations to chauffeur teenagers to the orthodontist or senior parents to the podiatrist. Thanks, SAHMs, for understanding and supporting what I do, everyday. Back at ya, too as I have total respect for my friends who have undertaken the stay-at-home life or the part-time compromise. It’s all about whatever works for you, whatever stage you’re in.

So on the first snow day I’ll be deflecting working parents hoping for a simple solution to their childcare woes. Call me to escape for lunch. I’ll take a sled, if necessary.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, November 8th, 2006 at 8:45 pm and is filed under . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.