Next year Cormac starts school and I will finally return to working full-time, something I haven’t done since becoming a mother. I have mixed feelings about working full-time. My career has undoubtedly been stalled by part-time work but the work life balance has been perfect. (I often refer to part-time work in my articles as the secret to happiness). Working part-time also allowed me the head-space to start a second career in writing. I hope I have established the patterns enough with writing to next year somehow combine one and a bit jobs with single parenting. I will enjoy the financial security of working full-time and the new opportunities, but I will deeply mourn that extra time with my children.
Speaking of which, I am feeling a little guilty about the days at home with Cormac. They have been such blank days. My inspiration has run somewhat dry over the last two years. Cormac and I do a lot more ‘nothing’ in the garden and a lot more ‘you watch television while I write the grocery list’ and a lot more ‘you play next to me while I write’ than I did with his big sister when she was at home with me. With his sister there seemed to be endless trips to museums and art galleries, and classes in swimming and music, and picnics in the park with friends. Partly, these excursions have lost their novelty for me so I haven’t been as motivated about them with Cormac, and partly, it felt like the time at home was forever and I thought I would get to them sooner or later, and partly, I just haven’t had the energy for these things during the last year and a half.
One must be gentle to oneself when one has been through the break-up of one’s longest relationship. And one must gently punish oneself with mother guilt, it seems, because that is the way.
blue milk 
But when he remembers his time with you it will be of playing next to you, having your undivided attention in the garden, telling you things to put on the shopping list. Not being dragged around a museum when he was tired and just wanted to go home (from his perspective). Also, much easier to do all that stuff when there is only one child and no one to rush to pick up after school. Be gentle on yourself.
What Mindy said š
I didn’t do any of that with my first or second born. I am often amazed at the amount of ‘high’ culture some parents manage to pack into their child’s day. Where do they find the time? Good organisation, I guess.
So no mother’s guilt for you, please! You’re doing such an awesome job already.
i can do cultural activities (which i prefer) or housework in one day, but not usually both. Art museum gets dusted by someone else, it’s another point in its favor.
Mindy is not wrong at all there. What I distinctly and most fondly remember from my childhood are those nothing days with my Mum. The activities were neither here nor there, but just the being together at home is something that has stayed with me and I look forward to doing it more with my girl when she’s old enough to stay still for 30 seconds at a time. Mother guilt is a place that most Mums wallow for a while. But don’t stay there too long, you’ll miss all the fun stuff that’s going on.
One of the hardest lessons to learn as a mother (particularly well-meaning, well-educated, middle-class mothers like myself) is how little kids need for the good life. The freedom to potter around, safely and independently – especially if it means swinging between boredom and interest – is actually a great gift.
I kept my niece a couple days of week when she was really young, and I did something different with her every day (children’s museum, park, pool, fun, fun, fun). When my 1st son was born, we occasionally did those trips, some things more than others. Now, I feel like my youngest son is really getting the shaft and I spend all my days home with him trying to catch up on cleaning, laundry, errands, etc… Poor kid. He may never get to the Children’s Museum, but he’s gonna be a whiz at laundry.
For what it’s worth I like to think that my second child receives less of a slightly more wholehearted kind of love compared to the meandering little stream of love I started with many moons ago with my first born. I feel like he gradually cranked my heart wide open and although he had my full attention and many a well planned activity while he did so, his little sister benefits from a more wide hearted mother (albeit with divided attention and far fewer activities!) And my daughter gets all the love and social benefits of being around her big brother too – those must compensate a lot? So sorry to hear about your relationship. I hope you find ways of being kind to yourself xxx
At some teenage age I told my mother that my fondest, oldest memory was of walking to the creek (3/4 mile) and picnicking on boiled eggs in the sun. She said, “Really? I remember being depressed by that. We only did it when I was so bored and had to get out of the house and I couldn’t think of anything else to do.”
[…] I haven’t taken Cormac to the art gallery much – see here for a full exploration of that guilt – and so my expectations of him were low. And when I did […]
[…] I haven’t taken Cormac to the art gallery much – see here for a full exploration of that guilt – and so my expectations of him were low. And when I did […]
[…] which my career completely stalled during that phase. In some ways this wasn’t a problem at the time because I had other priorities and I also managed to launch a writing career on the side during it […]