Alhamdulillah, our office has finally been moved into the premises of the larger organisation that we are joining. It’s a real office. With real people. And when you’re me, every day is Take Your Toddler to Work Day!
I think Musfira likes it so far. We get up, have breakfast, get out of our pj’s, and pack our respective bags. Mine has a laptop, a company stamp, a check book, and various reports. Musfira’s has three diapers, powder, a box of cereal, and small LED flashlight from Daiso. It is pink.
We wake up in the morning and leave the untidy house- the cereal bowls crusting over in the sink, the pile of folded laundry that’s been on the coffee table for three days, and we drive. We listen to Qur’an or Nasheeds. We point out birds. Sometimes, Musfira likes to point out trees.
Momma, twee! oh, twee! twee! twee, twee, twee, twee…. ah twee!
We get to the new office and Musfira is immediately welcomed by any number of bouncy, energetic, ABA therapists with exactly the right sort of personality to be a toddler’s best friend. She sees who’ll be working with her today while I’m working with admin. She gets happy.
She plays with puzzles, and climbs up and down the stairs, and when no one’s looking, she hides in a corner and poops in her diaper because she’s too afraid to use the toilet at the office. So then I close my reports and wash her little bottom in the bathroom without a changing table, and she runs back outside to climb the stairs again and all is right with her little world. Sometimes, we have impromptu teleconferences. I’ll be talking to one person on the phone. And Musfira will either talk to me, or start talking to them too. She comes with me on lunch meetings, and the day before yesterday, she demanded- and got- the Clinical Supervisor’s apple juice.
Today we’re going to be taking our lunch from home, because I cannot and will not eat out every day- it’s too expensive, too unhealthy, and too hectic trying to pack a two a half year old out to lunch and back again within any given timeframe. She likes to chase birds, linger over her chicken strips, and ask loud questions about other lunch-hour patrons.
Musfira: “momma, wha happinid to a lady’s nose?”
“It’s pierced dear. Some cultures wear earrings in their noses. Isn’t it lovely?”
Musfira is unconvinced. She continues to stare fixedly at the nice Indian lady in the power suit.
It’s 8:30 right now, and my company toddler has overslept, which is why I’m blogging instead of driving to work. But it’s time to wake her up now, change her into her best corporate diaper, and hand her to her adoring fans while I attempt to get some work done. Alhamdulillah. Off to work we go.