How things change. This was what I wrote almost exactly a year ago on another blog:
As I write this, my daughter, T, is desperately trying to get me to play a Santa game [in May!]with her. This consists of emptying the paper recycling bag all over the office floor and handing out bits of paper as presents to everyone here – everyone being my mother, my husband and me. I try not to see the mess on the office floor and concentrate on writing, blogging, commenting and checking my email. But it’s hard. Part of me would love to get on the floor and play. The other part just wants to get this writing done quickly before taking T to playgroup.
When she asks for my attention I feel guilty, even though I know that I spend plenty of time with her – every morning and evening on the three days she goes to preschool; most of all the other days. But it’s hard to resist when she says ‘I want you, Mummy’.
The trouble is, I get very focused on my writing. T is perhaps the only person that can cut through the fog that surrounds me when I’m in the writing zone. Even my husband complains that I don’t hear him speak when I’m in writing mode. But I always hear my daughter – must be a biological thing. And that same biology makes me want to drop everything and go to her, even when it’s not reasonable.
I’m only human, though. Sometimes I wish T would give me the five minutes I need to finish a job quickly, instead of having the same job take half an hour with her on my knee, fighting for possession of the keyboard or asking to go to a children’s website or play a game.
At other times, I remember why I chose to be a WAHM, close my laptop and go off to play. Today looks like one of those days.
One year later, and she’s at school, while I write. Of course, I still have those challenges during the holidays. 
