I try to prop up my laptop in a place the kids can easily see and and then rig up some sort of barrier to keep the girls from getting to the keyboard. It starts simply enough, but always ends with piles of boxes and various pieces of furniture moved about to plug up the access points.
Eleanor is perfectly content to play a bit, watch a bit, play a bit more, but Abigail gets all weirdly possessive. She doesn't want Eleanor to have a better view than her or get closer to the screen than she can, but if Eleanor wanders away to the girls' room, Abigail will stand up and shout at the top of her lungs, "ALL DONE! ALL DONE!" and try to make me turn off the show.
Things were actually bad enough yesterday that I asked Matt to stay home from work (he seems to just have a low-grade version of what the girls and I have), but as we're looking to bank as much sick and vaycay time as we can for November, I figured I was good enough to tough it out today. In my sick, tired, nausea, runny nosed haze, I have decided that pregnant women should be naturally immune to the common cold (hello, cruel and unusual punishment) and that people should get an extra sick day per pay period per child. Seriously though, back when we didn't have kids, we almost never got sick. And now we have two little hooligans who ensure that everything that visits the preschool classroom comes home and gets passed around.
In other news, I've already got a baby belly. I've lost 3 pounds since conceiving (thank you, nausea), yet I'm already in maternity gear.
I was so proud when I managed to hold off my maternity clothes until the second trimester with Eleanor. And now, geeze, it was like my stomach muscles saw the plus sign and were like, "F- this."
Well, real life is calling, guys. Sorry I won't be able to do any proofing. Wish me luck.