Now I've been back at work for a few months, I've had time to reflect on the advantages and disadvantages of balancing work and family life. I've structured it into a pro's and cons list, because I haven't managed to find much of a balance and lists are quick.
Pro: I don't get indigestion from inhaling meals when Little Parasite spots I'm eating, and makes his determined way over to mug me.
Con: I habitually leave bits of baby-safe sandwich and fruit as a decoy for the good stuff.
Pro: I can have a hot drink whilst it is indeed hot.
Con: I continually burn my mouth because I think 'boiling' is 15oc, and forget to check.
Pro: I often get to have at least one grown-up conversation a day.
Con: I now have to engage my brain. I can't rely on innocence and make stuff up.
Pro: I don't have to watch kids' TV.
Con: I regularly miss Octonauts and Chuggington, which I now have to catch up on iPlayer.
Pro: I can spend most of the day sat in a chair, not the floor.
Con: I have to sit in a chair and work, instead of sit on the floor pretending I'm only playing with toys to amuse Little Parasite - who has since crawled off somewhere, leaving me to play with his toys in peace.
Pro: My lunch hour is actually a whole guaranteed hour, not a duration determined by the equation: L=(ns - En)/C*, where L = lunch, s = sleep, E = Exhaustion, C = crankiness and n = number.
Con: Less time with LP.
Pro: Earning money!
Con: The majority of it is spent on childcare.
Pro: I can pretend 'baby brain' causes me to forget everything.
Con: I've discovered 'baby brain' is a real thing.
Pro: I can get through a whole day with no baby puke on my clothes.
Con: I end up spilling yogurt on myself instead, and have no one else to blame.
*Apparently, Blogspot has no way of putting sub- or superscript characters in.
Monday, 19 May 2014
Friday, 9 May 2014
Divided
Two hours forty-five minutes. That's how much sleep I had a few nights' back to get me through a working day. Since Little Parasite started nursery 6 months ago his immune system has been under constant onslaught from every virus, germ and bacteria that can conceivably fit in one pre-school room. Colds; hand foot and mouth disease; conjunctivitis; norovirus; eczema (including a fungal skin infection on his hands). Poor LP has had it rough. Add to this the expected trauma of teething and post-vaccination fevers, and the whole household has had it rough. Nurseries are no place for babies. They are essentially Petri dishes waiting to take their gig mobile.
That night, a cold-riddled LP decided screaming at regular intervals throughout the night, whilst still fast asleep, was in order. When Husband or I went in to check on him with increasing frequency, he would sleepily look up at us with an expression of "What are you doing in here? Get out of my room so I can sleep." Chastised, we would then leave the room. As soon as the door closed, the screaming would start again. Eventually, by 3am, we'd had enough and brought him into bed with us. He immediately woke up and proceeded to use our bed frame as a gymnasium. He lasted 10 minutes before we unceremoniously deposited him back to his own room. He then happily fell asleep till I had to practically crow bar him out of his cot in the morning. Unsurprisingly, he was somewhat tired and didn't want to go to nursery.
This is just one of a number of instances where I doubt how beneficial working is when your child is so young. I know for many working mothers they enjoy the sense of self being at work brings back. You regain some of your own identity, and don't just become the family's official nose-wiper and funny-noise-maker. For me, becoming a mum updated my identity, it didn't undermine it.
Instead of feeling empowered by working, I feel that I've now become a half-assed employee, and a half-assed parent.
Simple things such as when your child is a bit unwell suddenly become complicated issues. Is he unwell enough to stay home? Could he cope being a bit poorly but going to nursery? Who is going to arrange time off to look after him? Do we have enough leave to accommodate it? The simple answer of 'he just needs his mum' is no longer an option.
LP has great fun at nursery, so I have no concerns that he spends his days lamenting my absence (he barely looks back when I drop him off). It's good for him to gain invaluable social skills and it gives Boy Dog* a break from having his eyes poked. Once we have got through all these recurrent illnesses (which, apparently, is an expected part of integrating into a nursery - oh good, it's normal. That makes it much easier to cope with) things will improve. In the meantime, I'll fantasise about creating the first commercially viable caffeine IV drip targeted at working mums. Know your market.
*Sadly, Girl Dog passed away a few months ago. Now Boy Dog has to take the full throttle (not figurative) of LP's attentions.
That night, a cold-riddled LP decided screaming at regular intervals throughout the night, whilst still fast asleep, was in order. When Husband or I went in to check on him with increasing frequency, he would sleepily look up at us with an expression of "What are you doing in here? Get out of my room so I can sleep." Chastised, we would then leave the room. As soon as the door closed, the screaming would start again. Eventually, by 3am, we'd had enough and brought him into bed with us. He immediately woke up and proceeded to use our bed frame as a gymnasium. He lasted 10 minutes before we unceremoniously deposited him back to his own room. He then happily fell asleep till I had to practically crow bar him out of his cot in the morning. Unsurprisingly, he was somewhat tired and didn't want to go to nursery.
This is just one of a number of instances where I doubt how beneficial working is when your child is so young. I know for many working mothers they enjoy the sense of self being at work brings back. You regain some of your own identity, and don't just become the family's official nose-wiper and funny-noise-maker. For me, becoming a mum updated my identity, it didn't undermine it.
Instead of feeling empowered by working, I feel that I've now become a half-assed employee, and a half-assed parent.
Simple things such as when your child is a bit unwell suddenly become complicated issues. Is he unwell enough to stay home? Could he cope being a bit poorly but going to nursery? Who is going to arrange time off to look after him? Do we have enough leave to accommodate it? The simple answer of 'he just needs his mum' is no longer an option.
LP has great fun at nursery, so I have no concerns that he spends his days lamenting my absence (he barely looks back when I drop him off). It's good for him to gain invaluable social skills and it gives Boy Dog* a break from having his eyes poked. Once we have got through all these recurrent illnesses (which, apparently, is an expected part of integrating into a nursery - oh good, it's normal. That makes it much easier to cope with) things will improve. In the meantime, I'll fantasise about creating the first commercially viable caffeine IV drip targeted at working mums. Know your market.
*Sadly, Girl Dog passed away a few months ago. Now Boy Dog has to take the full throttle (not figurative) of LP's attentions.
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