A few weeks back when I was out walking with my great aunt, she said to me with a knowing grin "I bet you can't remember what you did before he came along."
Actually, although my brain is definitely losing its edge I can remember what I did before my son came along. Namely; I dressed better, wore more make-up, drank more cocktails, stayed out late and, as a rule, pitied people who did have children. When I mentioned this my father simply said "But for all that she still doesn't want to go back to work."
Good point. I don't.
I really, really, really don't.
If you had told me 5 years ago that I would one day have a baby and want to give up working I would have done one of two things: either laughed at you until you died and decomposed or shot you there and then.
I mean, I love a Cath Kidston apron like most women, but the idea that I would use it for anything other than decorative purposes while I swapped my social whirl for a whirlpool was unthinkable.
I have until recently, been putting this down to a sudden biological urge. Nature takes over and all of a sudden you want to spend every waking moment with this amazing human being you have created. But that's a load of shit because I actually spend a fair amount of my day trying to get away from the amazing human being I have created.
The other day I found myself wishing that my son would take his nap so that I could get some time on e-bay and when he wakes me in the morning my first instinct is, "For fuck's sake - is it that time already?"
So, now I'm actually working through the theory that I'm just lazy. I can't be arsed to work. Motherhood is hard work of course, but its hard work that includes a lot of blowing bubbles, walking round the park on a sunny day and, if you're lucky, opening a bottle of wine before 3pm. The alternative is to work your arse off, only to be used and abused with shitty wages to match. At least my son smiles at me, unlike your average colleague.
Other mothers have put it to me that although they stayed at home with their children, it got to the stage where they wished they had gone back to work a couple of days a week to keep their toes in the water. Five years after devoting their entire lives to their offspring, they find themselves totally daunted by careers they previously took in their stride.
There is no dilemma for me. I cannot afford to be a stay-at-home-mum and as much as I may resent being forced back to work if I woke up in five years time and was afraid to go back, that would be worse. I may want to be 'Mum' today but tomorrow when my child goes to school what the hell do I do with myself then? Who am I, if I allow myself to be totally absorbed by another?
There are several more paragraphs to this particular blog entry. But I'm not going to write them now and here is the reason. My internet is down and where I would usually be quaffing wine, typing away and watching the world go by from my window I am actually in a public library. I thought this would be fun. An hour by myself to write seemed like heaven. It isn't. So you will have to excuse any little typing errors because libraries used to be quiet. The other reason I have to break it off here is that the next few paragraphs are dirty and controversial and when I logged in I agreed that I wouldn't 'misuse' this PC. I actually have no idea what constitutes misuse of this PC and plus I have people either side of me who are probably reading this. In view of the fact that I have already used the words 'fuck', 'shitty' and 'arse' I may already have broken this promise. So folks, stay tuned for part two...it's going to get hardcore.
Actually, although my brain is definitely losing its edge I can remember what I did before my son came along. Namely; I dressed better, wore more make-up, drank more cocktails, stayed out late and, as a rule, pitied people who did have children. When I mentioned this my father simply said "But for all that she still doesn't want to go back to work."
Good point. I don't.
I really, really, really don't.
If you had told me 5 years ago that I would one day have a baby and want to give up working I would have done one of two things: either laughed at you until you died and decomposed or shot you there and then.
I mean, I love a Cath Kidston apron like most women, but the idea that I would use it for anything other than decorative purposes while I swapped my social whirl for a whirlpool was unthinkable.
I have until recently, been putting this down to a sudden biological urge. Nature takes over and all of a sudden you want to spend every waking moment with this amazing human being you have created. But that's a load of shit because I actually spend a fair amount of my day trying to get away from the amazing human being I have created.
The other day I found myself wishing that my son would take his nap so that I could get some time on e-bay and when he wakes me in the morning my first instinct is, "For fuck's sake - is it that time already?"
So, now I'm actually working through the theory that I'm just lazy. I can't be arsed to work. Motherhood is hard work of course, but its hard work that includes a lot of blowing bubbles, walking round the park on a sunny day and, if you're lucky, opening a bottle of wine before 3pm. The alternative is to work your arse off, only to be used and abused with shitty wages to match. At least my son smiles at me, unlike your average colleague.
Other mothers have put it to me that although they stayed at home with their children, it got to the stage where they wished they had gone back to work a couple of days a week to keep their toes in the water. Five years after devoting their entire lives to their offspring, they find themselves totally daunted by careers they previously took in their stride.
There is no dilemma for me. I cannot afford to be a stay-at-home-mum and as much as I may resent being forced back to work if I woke up in five years time and was afraid to go back, that would be worse. I may want to be 'Mum' today but tomorrow when my child goes to school what the hell do I do with myself then? Who am I, if I allow myself to be totally absorbed by another?
There are several more paragraphs to this particular blog entry. But I'm not going to write them now and here is the reason. My internet is down and where I would usually be quaffing wine, typing away and watching the world go by from my window I am actually in a public library. I thought this would be fun. An hour by myself to write seemed like heaven. It isn't. So you will have to excuse any little typing errors because libraries used to be quiet. The other reason I have to break it off here is that the next few paragraphs are dirty and controversial and when I logged in I agreed that I wouldn't 'misuse' this PC. I actually have no idea what constitutes misuse of this PC and plus I have people either side of me who are probably reading this. In view of the fact that I have already used the words 'fuck', 'shitty' and 'arse' I may already have broken this promise. So folks, stay tuned for part two...it's going to get hardcore.
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