About four years ago I decided it was time to make a go of freelancing full-time, and I have worked hard since then to make my dream a reality. In just about every respect—if I do say so myself, heh—I think mine is a success story. At this point I enjoy a steady income, fulfilling work, a flexible schedule, and the satisfaction of knowing I made it all happen.

Which is why I am really struggling right now.

I am a product of public schools. I believe in public schools; not just because they’re the route I took, but because I think the principles behind them are good ones and that there are laws in place which should, theoretically, make them a viable path to success for everyone. My children attend public school. But I am currently somewhere I never expected to be: I am considering homeschooling.
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This weekend the kids and I took a day to lounge around in our pajamas and do little more than eat and watch television. It was divine. I hadn’t realized how badly we’d all needed it, until we did it. And even though it meant some things didn’t get done and I had some scrambling to do to catch up, I’d do it again. Because sometimes we just need to stop and breathe and just be.

I think that no matter your profession—whether you work out of the home, from home, or not at all—it is in the nature of child-raising that just when you’ve pretty much gotten things figured out, something changes. Grooves were meant to be interrupted, and children have a way of transforming weekly or even daily. So although it’s true that just about everyone runs into work/life balance issue, I think as parents we’re much more prone to “chasing a shifting target” sorts of issues.

I know I am, anyway.
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After agonizing over our Houdini dog disaster a month ago, I continued looking for a dog for our family, but started thinking it just might not happen. And then we found Licorice.

(It’s okay if you just started cooing at the screen and talking to that little face in babytalk. I do it to her all the time.)

You would think—after all the time it took for us to get to this point—that I would’ve realized exactly what I was getting myself into with a new pet. And I did. Mostly. But even though Licorice is three, the fact that she’s new to our home and a relatively recent rescue means that in many ways, she’s a puppy. And having a puppy is not all that different from having a baby, it turns out.

So let’s check in on how my typical day has changed.
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You know that old routine with the damsel and the villain where he says, “You must pay the rent!” and she says, “I can’t pay the rent!” and they go back and forth until the swarthy hero appears and says, “I’ll pay the rent!”? That’s sort of the conversation that goes on in my head about volunteering at my kids’ schools. Except that I’m both the villain and the damsel, and no one ever swoops in and offers to pay my rent.

Okay, maybe it’s a lousy metaphor.

Except that it’s not, because I’ve always said that one of the biggest perks of working from home is that I’m free to be really involved in my kids’ activities and to pitch in where I’m needed. When we moved to Georgia two years ago I dove in head-first: PTA, other parent committees, classroom volunteer, event staff for various school functions, etc. I was happy to be able to do it.

Until I started resenting it all.
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I love my children. I love my children. Ilovemychildrenanddon’treallywanttokillthem.

Ahem.

So the thing about my home office is that I used to share it with my husband. When we first moved into this house a few years ago, we packed the room to the gills with our stuff—his desk on that wall, mine on this one, and bookshelves and boxes galore everywhere else. I enjoyed sharing with him (I am rather fond of the guy, after all, and he makes an ideal officemate because he’s quiet and tidy but also fun to be around), but we really didn’t have enough space. And so this summer, we rearranged some other things in the house and my husband moved his office upstairs.

The good news is that now he has enough room for all of his stuff, and I have enough room for all of my stuff.

The bad news is that all of the new-found extra space in my office is rapidly being filled up with child detritus.
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Although I enjoy hanging around with my family and friends, I am, by nature, a rather solitary person. Loneliness is a common freelancer’s lament—long days in the home office, all alone, can start to feel like a lifetime in a cave—but for the most part I relish the quiet.

But I got to thinking that a dog would be awesome, because I’m here all the time, and it would give me some companionship during the day and the kids would be delighted to have a pet again (we haven’t had a dog since they were very small), and it all seemed like such a good idea. So the husband and I did our research and drove out to a rescue in the country and agreed to foster a particularly timid dog for two weeks. In two weeks we would see if he would come out of his shell and maybe be a good fit for our family.

Within three hours of getting him home, he bolted through the slats in the gate. That was four days ago, and the good news is that the dog is fine; he’s lounging around our neighborhood and when he’s not somewhere we can see him, the neighbors are calling to report he’s in their yards eating their cat food. The bad news is that no human can get within 10 feet of him.
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… of the yeeeeeeeaaaar….

I’m feeling a little giddy. School starts this week.

I’ve had a great summer with the kids. I love having them home. I love all of the adventures we’ve had—camping, swimming, outings, lazy days at home, visits to relatives, various craft projects, endless Wii tournaments, and the ever-constant chant of “Mom, we’re hungry.” (And every single time, they were surprised when I responded, “Well, then, have a snack.” As if maybe I’d hidden all the food since the last time they’d eaten.)

I repeat: Summer has been a blast.

But it’s time for everyone to get the hell out of my office. Seriously.
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Today I’m sitting in the passenger seat as my husband points us towards home. We’ll do a long drive today, one more night of camping, and then a short drive tomorrow will bring us back to our house and routine.

(And my beloved, huge, soft bed. Not that I’ve been thinking about that much, as I try to get comfortable on our thin camping mattress. Ahem.)

We’ve driven thousands of miles and stayed in four different states (so far—we’ll hit a fifth state tonight). We’ve had hot dogs and s’mores as well as sirloin tips and cappuccino. Yesterday we spent an entire day as consummate tourists in Gettysburg, and I basically blew off working for the day.
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Well, the time has come to test my mettle as a freelancer on the road. I’ve amassed everything I need—I have a brand-spanking-new Netbook, my trusty MiFi, my cell phone, and a bagful of office essentials—and this week, I’ll find out just how well I can juggle in the woods.

Juggle the family, our vacation, working, and s’mores, that is.

That’s right—the Big Summer Camping Trip is upon is. I’m really excited. We’ll be hauling our trailer thousands of miles, visiting family, sightseeing, and having our first real vacation in a long time.

I’ll also be working, because as a freelancer, I really don’t have the option to just take a couple of weeks off of work. The trick is going to be keeping the work to a minimum so that I can still enjoy our trip.
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This past weekend we took a huge step as a family. You could say we’re trying to restore our work/life balance. You could say we’ve decided to embrace nature. Or you could say we’ve completely lost our minds.

We bought a travel trailer. Camping, here we come!

And the big joke, of course, is that I’m perfectly willing to go camping as long as I have a real bed to sleep on and air conditioning at night. Which, of course, the trailer provides. And then I said that as long as I have internet access, too… I definitely need internet access so that I can work a little while we’re gone, right? Well, it turns out that many campgrounds now offer wireless, so that was okay, too. One could argue that I may just be missing the point of a vacation, but as we know, freelancers don’t actually get to take vacations in the conventional sense for more than a day or two.

But then I find myself on that slope again.
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