Welcome
to the Party
BY LISA GREGORY
One longtime work-from-home writer shares a tale
I ©iStockphoto.com/mapodile
have worked from home as a freelance writer since my son was
born 26 years ago. So, I am finding the postings on Facebook and
Instagram especially interesting these days as more and more
parents are required to work from home.

Welcome to the party. It can be challenging, exhausting, hilarious
and rewarding.

As my son was growing up, I had people frequently comment about
how lucky I was that I could work from home. And, I agree, I was for-
tunate. But also busy and challenged and often exhausted. There is
something about having to be creative on demand that can stretch
one’s capabilities to the breaking point.

I remember getting into a groove with an article and then hearing
my just-laid-down baby boy stir and need my attention. I had to step
away and hope that the train of thought I was embracing would return
to me. Sometimes it did. Sometimes it didn’t.

My son was such a good sport and so adaptable. I parceled out my
work around his schedule. And I don’t regret it.

But, as I said, it was not without its challenges.

There was the incident with a world-renown physicist, for exam-
ple. I was interviewing this individual for an article by phone when I
looked up to see my toddler, who was just outside the door seconds
earlier playing with his toys, now making a mad dash to the bathroom.

I saw a streak of red hair barreling down the hall. I knew what that
meant. At a certain age, toddlers become fascinated by toilets and
their ability to flush them. And not just flushing bodily wastes as it
were, but all kinds of interesting things. My baby brother once flushed
a $20 bill as my grandfather frantically reached into the toilet bowl to
retrieve it to no avail.

So, I was well versed in the hazards of little kids and toilets.

I never missed a beat with the interview as I scrambled behind my
wayward boy and his toilet task. I kept the conversation going (I am a
professional after all) while attempting to grab the toy from my son’s
hand. I was poised right above the toilet, bent down just over it as
close as one could get, when it happened. My son had beaten me to it.

The flush.

The physicist paused his talking. I knew at that very moment what
he was thinking. This man who had won a Nobel Prize thought I was
sitting on the toilet interviewing him. Of course, I was not. But …
I apologized as I guided my son back to his toys just outside
of my office.

I explained the situation and waited for the physicist’s response.

Up until that point he had spoken with a droll Alec Guinness-type of
voice. All formal and professional. Would I be reprimanded? Would he
choose not to finish the interview? Was my career over?
No. He laughed. A deep, genuine laugh. And at that moment his
whole personality changed. From Alec Guinness to a warmer grandfa-
therly type. Perhaps he had rascals of his own.

I apologized again. His response to that still warms my heart more
than 20 years later. “Well, I have a great story for my next cocktail
party,” he said with a chuckle.

We both did, cocktail parties or not. And I have told that story over
and over as an example of the craziness and joy of working from home.

Again, to all you newbies, welcome to the party. And remem-
ber, as you adjust to working from home, you may be creating your
own “cocktail stories.” Stories that you will hold dear long after this
uncertain time passes. n
WashingtonFAMILY.com 21