Right now I have our shit fairly sorted. Kindergartener going to bed at a reasonable hour, me and her and the baby out walking most evenings, take-away meals to a minimum. In fact, we’re even eating meals constructed of things grown in our garden. I’m still tired, I don’t get enough sleep, the house is messier than I’d like, the baby is overdue for his vaccinations, and I need a haircut, but I am not in the throes of a crisis. I am tired, but not exhausted. Specialisation has its merits. I am a stay at home mother for the year.
All this is not to say that I will be continuing forever more as a stay-at-home mother, nor even that I especially want to. Going back to work next year will be good for me (financially and mentally), but for the time being I am really enjoying the sense of accomplishment that comes with doing something pretty well because you can focus on it, and even more satisfyingly, having the power to fix something when there are problems with it. This is not to gloat, this is not to say that women should be at home, this is not to say that the fight to combine work and family life isn’t worth it, this is just to say that I am relieved to be taking a pause in that struggle.
And this post by Sybil Vane at Bitch PhD really brings this home to me, because the pain I feel reading her post about her efforts to balance work with parenting is visceral and scorching.
Yes, to all of it.
I find my my enthusiasm for writing job applications rises when I’m not feeling on top of the stay at home gig, when I’m doing it full time and it’s still chaos. Then I know it’s time to get on out the door into the world.
Urgh even our blended family is having issues with this at the moment.
The b.f is getting the hard word from his work to do hours. They are happy for him to leave early so he can spend time with his daughter but then he is expected to work into the night at home and during the weekend. Well someone still needs to make sure the dishes are done (no dishwasher at our house), the lunches are made for the next morning, the clothes are laundered, and the shelves are stocked. So in order for him to ’spend time with his daughter’ someone still needs to do the grunt work to keep the household running and that person right now is me.
I hate it.
Good for you, bluemilk.
I enjoy caring for my kids so much more when there are no pressures from work – then I can achieve the ‘in the moment’ feeling that people talk about. But that’s pretty rare, leaving me with exactly the sense of desperation conveyed by S.V. It’s hard then to remember that I’m not a bad mother, I’m an overloaded mother.
It’s a real luxury to have the time and the calm. I’m glad the pause is going so well.