Monday, October 16, 2006

My So-Called Professional Life

Here's another thing that the baby books completely ignore: how to make your baby shush while you're trying to carry on an important phone call.

As you all know, I'm trying to maintain some semblance of a professional life by doing some freelance writing. My current assignment is to write a story about a man in Texas who was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer two years ago. The story will run on NurseZone.com, which was the Web site in San Diego that I wrote for before joining the staff of The Desert Sun when David and I moved to the desert.

So my contact arranges a telephone interview today at 2:30 p.m. Which sounded great to me. Plus, typically, William is napping around that time of day---not always, but often enough.

You know what's coming, don't you? And of course, you're right. The little prince went down in his crib with nary a peep around 1 p.m.....only to wake up with a screech at 2:10. I hurriedly nursed him, thinking that if he's not hungry, he'll be relatively cheerful and well-behaved. Except apparently well-rested and well-fed are not enough for William. He must also be well-entertained. The boy does not like to be ignored.



















So while I attempted to conduct a professional interview about the prognosis of breast cancer in men and the pervasiveness of advertising about the disease that is aimed toward only women, William sat next to me in his bouncy seat and repeatedly spat out his binky and whined. Then the whining escalated into crying. Mr. Ducky and Freddie the Firefly were tossed aside in his quest to Make Mommy Pay Attention to Me Now! Now! NOOOOOOOWWWWWWW!

Sigh. The cancer patient and his oncologist were very understanding, but still! Of course, as soon as I finished the interview and hung up, I turned to William, who...stopped crying. He's now sitting here in my lap, lunging for the keyboard and occasionally gnawing on my arm. And yes, he's happy as a clam now. Or happy as a lark. Or happy as insert-your-cliche-here. My own personal favorite cliche would have to be "happy as a little boy who finally finally finally got his mommy's attention."

What a way to conduct business!


* * *

In other news, William discovered a couple nights ago that he could fit his toes into his mouth. We also think he may be teething, but we're not sure. He has started being able to transfer a toy from one hand to the other, a skill that the doctors look for at the six-month mark, which he will hit this coming Sunday. Also, I weighed him this morning at the hospital. Fully dressed and with a diaper on, he was 18 pounds and 10 ounces, so his real weight is somewhat less than that. Still. What a nice little chunk of baby, eh?

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hi Jen,
How do they seem to know exactly when Mom needs to do something important? I can remember my boys needing attention RIGHT NOW when I was on phone calls. They can learn to wait when they get a little older.
With love, Diane

Anonymous said...

Jen,
I've been looking at that picture again tonight. The caption could be:
"Who, me? I would never, never interrupt Mommy when she's talking on the phone!"
What an expressive face!
With love, Diane

Anonymous said...

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