I know I'm lucky, I have a rather fantastic support network around me, but I've learned, that realistically, it doesn't make the struggle of keeping two children alive any easier. I remember that in the pit of a period of what I believe was post natal depression after my first, how I had longed for my career back, and there are times now when I catch myself daydreaming about the cut and thrust of my former life. The truth is, no matter how wonderful the days are with my babies, I miss having something that is mine. I am jealous of my husband moving on with his career. I know that is one of the worst things I could say as I am also desperately proud of him, but there is a part of me that wishes it was me.
As the big 3-0 looms this year, I find myself reflecting on the many years of education in preparation for a life that I will never have . In the end, no matter what anyone says to you pre-children, mothers must make that choice. Sure, there are those women who really do appear to juggle it all, but for me, it was a clear choice from the moment my first was born. A seemingly simple choice between the career with the 80 hour week, the stress, the constant demands, the long days and sleepless nights (which I actually adored), doing the one job I had always wanted, and the other job. The one that essentially requires the same and more from me but without the kudos, the bonus or the suit. The one that requires me to hold it together despite unrelenting tiredness, be forever covered in food, paint and bodily fluids and to seemingly endlessly be in a state of alertness, in case one, or more likely both, tries to dismember the other. The one job that has you experiencing every spectrum of human emotion in a matter of a few minutes, or on some days, seconds, and probably the only job that is both terrifying and incredible all at the same time. The one that no one really considers a job (unless they actually have their own) and the one that means that I will, for now at least, just be someone's mum. I knew though, as soon as she clapped eyes on me after a long and bloody awful labour that I had to give her everything and I knew that meant a huge change to my plans. We were lucky to have that choice.
So for now at least, I juggle two jobs working for my mum and a company which, considering I have left 3 or 4 times and have changed my hours on a termly basis for the last 10 years, has amazingly stuck by me, and, for the most part at least, it works. I have my babies with me everyday and neither has had to go to nursery or be with anyone except grandparents and us. It's wonderful and inexplicably hard at the same time. I am constantly stricken with mummy guilt, but I am finally realising that that is just part of the job description.
So here we are, 3 years on and my oldest starts pre-school in September. I could cry every second I think about it. I don't know where those 3 years have gone but I look at her and realise that every sleepless night, code brown, flooded bathroom and episode of Peppa and that every craft hung proudly on the wall, belly laugh and stress induced wrinkle has been worth so much more than a paycheck could ever have been. So much more than all the kudos in the world. My beautiful girl is intelligent, witty and excited for the next chapter in her life and I couldn't be prouder to be "just" her mummy.
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