A case of the "whys"

My almost 4 year old son has a condition that we can't seem to break. It came about very suddenly one day and now, I'm afraid, it's here to stay.

It's an unmistakable case of the "whys".

As in, why is the sky blue? Why is dirt called dirt? Why is the ground called ground?Why is your answer I don't know? And the ever-popular, "Why does your armpit have little hairs poking out?" For the record, I do shave, just apparently not close enough for the hawk-like eyes of a preschooler.

Frazzled as I am by the endless questions, I can't help but wonder how the technique would work on my clients. In my mind, it would go something like this:

Client: So, in a nutshell, we need to get on Oprah, pronto.
Me: Why do you need to get on Oprah?
Client: So we can get in front of a national audience.
Me: Why is there a national audience?
Client: (Strange look) Uh.. I guess so they can be sold on products like ours.
Me: Why are there products like yours?
Client: (Blank stare)
...
Me: Exactly.

Wall Street Journal and...potty time

Here is my life in a nutshell: yesterday I was running around my house screaming over the fact that me and my company were named in an article in the Wall Street Journal. The WALL....STREET...JOURNAL! http://online.wsj.com/article/SB124935067214603495.html


But, and here's the catch, as I fielded calls congratulating me over my serious press, I was crawling around on my hands and knees begging my daughter to put on some diapers. She had pulled them off and decided to pee in the middle of our kitchen floor.

And that, my friends, is the beauty of my life. To someone who doesn't know me well, they may be impressed that I landed myself in one of the nation's premier papers. But for those who know the real me, they know it's the practice of trying to act like I'm "the shit" while wiping up the real thing.

Got a Good Slogan?

Seriously! What is it about 4 year olds that make them instantly ready to interrupt phone calls and any conversation that doesn't involve them? It's like my son has a sensor in his head connected to our phone. I pick up the receiver and he comes running - more often than not screaming something only dogs can hear!

Which is how I found myself on a phone call last Friday afternoon, with a laughing client as I tried to speak intelligently above my son's 500 decibel questions about his private parts. Really?

Ok ladies, I think it's high time we have some humor in the mix about our predicament. I'm putting out a call for best slogans for work-from-home moms. Things like, "Mommy Needs a Nap." Or "Where's my Bottle?" with a pic of a bottle of wine.

Give me your best shot and I'll begin posting them. We gotta laugh about it, right? Either that or continually bang our head against the wall. And I don't know about you guys, but I've got enough headaches in my life!