My Daddy Works in His Underwear

Even as a home officer who occasionally works thriftily-clad, I can be an occasional road warrior. I go to hockey tournaments, host television media tours from NYC, watch Gator games at UF, and generally do my part to support the travel and lodging industries.

And, invariably, those trips involve sleep on the road.

So I often bring along that horse-yoke inflatable collar / pillow-like thing that’s supposed to keep me comfortable when I’m stuck in an airplane seat or slummin’ it at LaGuardia when bad weather’s cancelled my flight home.

What is the traveler to do? Blow up your TravelRest pillow.
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I just entered a contest for Freelance Folder (don’t try; entry’s closed). Celebrating their first birthday, founder Jon asked people for their best tips on running a freelance biz, home office / home-based or otherwise. Click here to see my response.

But there was more going on in my reply (”Persist“) than a one-word, catch-all missive that could be boiled down to some Motivational Speaker’s over-priced, self-obsessed rant.

I got to talking about birthdays and gifts and 19.5 years in freelancing and the classic line from Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon: “Shorter of breath, and one day closer to death…”

And I got to thinking about my place in this place. Nineteen years as a soloist. NINETEEN FRICKIN’ YEARS! All but two of my professional years have been spent in a home office. Robbie and I have a 16 year old high school junior, plus a 14- and a 10-year-old for good measure, all of whom have come home from the hospital to a home with an office in it.

Damn, am I that old?
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My day started this past Thursday with carpool at 7 am. It was followed shortly by another carpool at 730 am. I then saw that I was to walk Bailee, a neighbor’s dog, at 11 am. From then on, my morning and early afternoon were my own — until I had to drive carpools again at 215 and 4 pm.

Oh, and Robbie was headed to Sebring for the day to visit family.

I knew this to be true because Outlook said it was.

Interesting thing about this “work day.” Outlook had no mention of any “work” at all. Just a clutch of events that had everything to do with being a work-at-home dad.

That’s not to say I wouldn’t be busy. My white board was filled deadlines, and a half-dozen open Word docs revealed a fairly filled day ahead. And that doesn’t mean I wasn’t organized and my time wasn’t well managed. I was on top of it. It’s just that “it” had little to do with work.

But I thought when I gave up my corporate job almost 20 years ago I’d also given up the commute. Apparently not. Then again, being a work-at-home dad — or parent — means juggling business and family, finding compatibility between the two when you can.

Technology makes much of this possible — and makes me more reliable as an at-home parent. When I used paper-based scheduling and calendaring, I’d regularly miss appointments because I’d simply forget them. Even with Act!, and now Outlook, if I don’t schedule Bailee’s 11 am walk, she’ll go the day without a traipse around the block, leaving me to fib to her owners that, “Why, yes indeed, I did walk Bailee. I have NO idea why she pee’d for you for five minutes…”

And I always include a reminder 15 minutes before the scheduled event — even if that event is a walk with a dog.

Some out there are grinding their teeth right now, fuming that a neighbor would impose on me — someone who’s every bit the professional of my counterpart downtown, only one who works in the suburbs — such inane chores as a dog walk. Or that I’m driving four separate carpools. I don’t really have a problem with people who ask the occasional favor — whether Bailee’s humans or my kids’ mother. We impose on others. And no one’s habitual about their imposition.

Moreover, my kids have never seen daycare, early drop-off or late-stay/after-care. So I’m OK with all this. Besides, if I have to spend time in the carloop, I’ll being my BlackBerry or laptop and get some work done.

So one recent Thursday I had a very busy day indeed. I know I did, because Outlook told me so. It just didn’t make much mention of actual work needing doing. But such is the life of a work-at-home parent. We define “work” a bit differently in these parts…