Two years ago I thought about getting a proper job. This didn't last long but my CV is still on some recruitment agency databases. Occasionally I get e-mails about jobs, a project manager role in financial services was e-mailed to me the other day. This is the sort of achingly dull job I’d be doing if I hadn’t become a full-time Mum (apologies to anyone who does this job).
I thought I might apply using my parenting experience. Here’s the draft letter:
I used to be economically active. I miss my financial independence. One day, when I stop having babies I'll earn some money again. It sounds like I don't need to work, I do. But working would involve paying for childcare and not many people are going to employ someone who's 21 weeks pregnant either. Also, I want to bring up my babies myself for some reason, and I often wonder why. How times have changed. Here is a typical day when I used to work and now.
6am
Then: woken up by alarm, leap into shower, breakfast, into smart clothes, make-up on, nice shoes, nice bag, hair which is brushed, kiss husband, out of house and onto train to London.
Now: woken up by one or both children shouting / laughing / crying / getting into our bed or by baby leaping around in tummy. Get into clothes which are stretchy and have vague traces of snot on them. Sort children's breakfast and cats' breakfast and try to eat Cheerios before they go soggy.
Having a nanny is like having a wife. I have always felt it somewhat unfair that wives (generally speaking) don't get to have their own wives, and I am immensely enjoying the experience. My house is permanently tidy, the dishwasher and the laundry baskets are always empty, the children well fed and tidily dressed, and a batch of fresh-baked cookies always waiting on the counter to cool. Well, actually that last one's not true, but I'm thinking of adding it to her job description. (If you missed it, here's the bit about the arrival of the nanny).
It was all go in the Tawny household last Wednesday. K had a cricket match and had to be there at 6.00pm. Not a problem I hear you cry! However, I don’t finish work until 5.00, so here is a breakdown of the breakneck pace of the hour between 5 and 6 last night……
5.00pm - Sign off computer, close down, send text to child minder asking her to have K ready at 5.15, shout bye to boss and run out of door.
5.05pm – Sit at roundabout wondering where all the bloody traffic has appeared from it is half term for heavens sake.
5.12pm - Sit at traffic lights still wondering why every tom, dick and harry is on the flipping road!
With the rose-tinted memory of maternity leave still fresh in my mind, and a boss whose idea of flexible working is asking his secretary to bend over to pick up a file, I am ever conscious of making a good impression in my new job. Rightly or wrongly I don’t want to be labelled as someone with ‘childcare issues’. You’d think that nowadays that would be no bad badge to bear, but in fact you might just as well be labelled as syphilitic, for the distance you’ll see between you and some of your colleagues.
Some mornings I leave for work a little later than usual. I like to help the nanny get the children up, and participate in the conveyor belt of nappy changing, which is no mean feat now that they are all running around. Given that no child under three wants to stay still for any longer than he has to, the nanny and I have adopted the Tag Team production line method. You station yourselves on opposite sides of the room, each with a child.
Continue reading "A narrow escape from a poo-related career downfall" »
No, I'm not planning to drop my (considerably more expansive post-children) knickers and go on the game (it's not an issue of morals; the pension plan just doesn't measure up to the public sector) but I do need to re-join the rat race. I left work in 2006 when, six months into my first pregnancy, my waters unexpectedly broke, and I haven't been back since. I merged seamlessly from one maternity leave to another, having my children in batches, like a hamster. Two and a half years on the coffers are empty, and unless we want to teach the kids early on how to fend off the bailiffs, it's time to go out and earn some cash.
Just touching base to let you know that I have battled my resistance to all things numerical. Yes, I am finally doing my first set of accounts.
Urgh.
More a words than a numbers kinda gal, I haven't really kept any accounts to speak of since I started freelancing last September. Which makes it rather tricky to do my tax return. No, not tricky...
BORING.
So, I have just chucked all my receipts away (only those for the small stuff) which has saved me hours, if not days, of being a spreadsheet slave.
This is what my days consist of. Get up. Aarrgghh. Get children up. WAKE UP! Put kettle on for coffee. Mmmm. Help Eldest Son find his uniform - yes, the same uniform he had on a few hours ago that I swear to God I saw him dump on his bedroom floor but is, miraculously, no longer there in the morning.
Make ES a packed lunch. Curse at cupboard for not having any ingredients for packed lunch such as bread, ham, nutrigrains, crisps or even juice. Put plain Ryvitas in ES packed lunch box. Find an apple at the bottom of the fruit bowl. Extract apple from mouldy lemon. Put apple in lunch box. Tell ES to do the same things I ask him to do every day that he always forgets (wash under armpits, use deoderant, wash face with Clearasil, clean teeth, put pyjamas back in room, turn electric light off in room, think of the planet, worry about the poor, ponder the point of Marxism, get on bus).
Continue reading "There must be a solution somewhere, not that I know of it ..." »
I’m lucky in that ever since my children were at nursery, I have been able to work on a part time, self employed basis - fitting the marketing projects I take on around their schedule and needs.
I planned my return to work carefully. I would work from home of course, my laptop on the kitchen table; it made sense - low overheads, an ability to keep abreast of the household chores.
In my mind I would be happily typing a presentation that advised a multi-national company on what strategic direction it should be taking whilst rustling up nutritionally-balanced meals that Annabel Karmel would be proud of.
Continue reading "Top reason for not having a home office: "mummy's having a poo!"" »
To work or not to work? That is the question that many mums struggle over -- torn between career and being there for the children.
These wars, more prominent in the US, have been exemplified with the nomination of Alaska governor Sarah Palin as Republican John McCain’s vice presidential running mate.
With five children, one only five months old with special needs, and a pregnant teenage daughter, many are questioning whether she has the time to take on such an important role, and to be blunt, whether or not she should.
I find it very difficult to juggle part-time work and three kids. I am constantly tired and struggle to get the balance right. I am in awe of any woman that is so together that they take on motherhood AND the 2nd highest post in the world’s richest economic nation. But I can't help thinking that the reality is that one role will come first.
