I am only a day into Working at Home with a Preschooler and I can tell I’m going to need to have some sort of regular Hannah-report to the internet. Thinking back on past working from home time and maternity leave time, regular posts here would probably do. Though now I also have the option of some kind of HannahTalk twitter account.

Lost in her own imaginative play: “Listen, you can’t just go around pretending to be nice and then surprise people as you’re killing them.” (advice for the ages)

Helping me bake by pouring things into the bowl when I tell her to: “When I grow up, I could be a baker. And I can work by putting thing in things when people need things put in other things. …Or I could be a knight.”

Ask me how awesome my first day at home was. No, don’t bother, I’ll just tell you: SO AWESOME.

Because I’m destitute and unemployed we’re doing all those penny-pinching things like turning down the heat whenever we can, replacing lightbulbs with energy efficient ones and turning them off as much as possible. So this morning I turned off all our lights before sitting down to work. Hannah was in the basement and I was by the front window – so we really didn’t need any lights on. After a while, I noticed that it was lighter outside and I thought, “Oh, I can open the curtains and actually get natural light instead of sitting in the gloom.”

So I was sitting there, programming, with my throws over my lap (because the heat was turned down) and feeling cozy and enjoying my cup of freshly made coffee from my tasteful french press (lets me make only as much coffee as I need) and then I glanced out the window and there were these light fluffy snowflakes drifting past the window that was framed with my antique lace table-cloth converted to curtains. And I was all, “Well fuck yeah, this is about exactly what I envisioned for myself when I wished for Working From Home years ago.”

And then we went for lunch with a couple of friends. And then Hannah and I came home and we made ginger cookies. And then some belly dance friends came over with cupcakes and so we had cupcakes and tea and cookies as the older kids came home from school and we sat in the back sun-room with my friend helping Hannah make valentines while we chatted.

“Funny that everyone gravitated to the messiest room in the house,” I said (there’s lumber on the floor and three hampers of unfolded laundry back there), “I had told myself I could have people over because half my house is clean.” And they shrugged and said, “But a bit of clutter makes this the coziest part of the house. It feels like home.”

Aww. Signs you have the right kind of friends, I think.