Working motherhood
Sep. 3rd, 2003 01:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
azziriaSomething ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mrsg wrote the other day about being a working mother set me to thinking about my own experiences in that area.
I never wanted kids. Not a children person, me. I lived for travel, climbing mountains, and bottoming caves. And my work. I’d climbed the work ladder to where I wanted to be, doing challenging, varied and interesting work, with no desire to go any higher (the next step up involved moving into sales, which I knew I didn’t want to do).
The only fly in the ointment was that I didn’t like the company I was working for. So I applied for a new job and (very gratifyingly) got offered it the day I was interviewed. Right job, right package, right location. Perfect.
Except that that was also the day I found out I was pregnant with DS (and yes, as a biologist I should have known better, but when you’ve had that much champagne... the evils of the demon drink...). That little blue line on the pregnancy test changed everything. I couldn’t take the new job, because that would have involved DH trying to find a new job himself in the new location before I went on maternity leave, and we couldn’t take that risk as now we needed his money. So I had to stay at the hated firm and work long enough to earn my maternity pay. And I had to get my mind round the fact that I was going to be a mum.
My initial plan, fuelled I think by my unhappiness in my job at the time, was that I would give up work and look after the baby full time. The grass always looks greener etc. However, 3 months into looking after a colicky baby alone all day I began to realise that being a stay-at-home mum was not for me, no way. Luckily my line of work meant that I could work freelance, so when DS was 6 months old I handed him over to a childminder and started working 3 days a week.
Oh the bliss of that! Of being treated like a responsible intelligent grown-up human being again. Of being able to go for lunch or to the toilet unencumbered by an infant. Of seeing his lovely little face again at the end of the day and giving him a big hug and realising how much I’d missed him.
On my 2 non-working days I took him to baby club (and later toddler group) and did all the mum things that the other mothers were doing. But I had an escape, a balance.
This continued when I got pregnant (this time on purpose) with DD. DS was now at a very good day nursery, and as soon as I found out I was pregnant again I signed the new baby up for the same place (waiting lists being what they are around here). I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.
And this is how we’ve carried on. I gradually stopped going to toddler group when DD was about 2 - I found that I’d had my fill of talking about sleep patterns and weaning and toilet training - been there, done that, time to move on, and I now work 4 days a week. I’ve been exceptionally lucky with the nursery both children went to (and which DD is still at). It’s a lovely, warm and caring place, which both kids have loved, and that’s enabled me to go off to work happily and with a clear conscience.
I’m firmly convinced that I’m not cut out to be a mum and nothing else. I'm sure working has saved my sanity, and I don’t think it would have been good for me or the kids if I’d given up everything to look after them. And my working, which involves some business travel, has given DH the opportunity to be a very involved dad too (as well as giving us some security - although he is better paid than I could ever be in my line of work, his job is in the technology industry and is fairly insecure).
As to not wanting kids - well, I couldn’t imagine my life without those two people in it now (although I must admit that I’m still not really a ‘baby’ person - of course I adored mine, but they’re far more interesting now at 5 and 3!). I’ve had to give up some things, but I’ve gained so much, including becoming a far more mellow and balanced person (or so close friends tell me). And I’m really enjoying watching them grow up and learn stuff (guess that’s the biologist in me coming out...).
What at the time I though was the worst thing in the world to happen to me has turned out pretty well so far, all things considered!
mrsg wrote the other day about being a working mother set me to thinking about my own experiences in that area.I never wanted kids. Not a children person, me. I lived for travel, climbing mountains, and bottoming caves. And my work. I’d climbed the work ladder to where I wanted to be, doing challenging, varied and interesting work, with no desire to go any higher (the next step up involved moving into sales, which I knew I didn’t want to do).
The only fly in the ointment was that I didn’t like the company I was working for. So I applied for a new job and (very gratifyingly) got offered it the day I was interviewed. Right job, right package, right location. Perfect.
Except that that was also the day I found out I was pregnant with DS (and yes, as a biologist I should have known better, but when you’ve had that much champagne... the evils of the demon drink...). That little blue line on the pregnancy test changed everything. I couldn’t take the new job, because that would have involved DH trying to find a new job himself in the new location before I went on maternity leave, and we couldn’t take that risk as now we needed his money. So I had to stay at the hated firm and work long enough to earn my maternity pay. And I had to get my mind round the fact that I was going to be a mum.
My initial plan, fuelled I think by my unhappiness in my job at the time, was that I would give up work and look after the baby full time. The grass always looks greener etc. However, 3 months into looking after a colicky baby alone all day I began to realise that being a stay-at-home mum was not for me, no way. Luckily my line of work meant that I could work freelance, so when DS was 6 months old I handed him over to a childminder and started working 3 days a week.
Oh the bliss of that! Of being treated like a responsible intelligent grown-up human being again. Of being able to go for lunch or to the toilet unencumbered by an infant. Of seeing his lovely little face again at the end of the day and giving him a big hug and realising how much I’d missed him.
On my 2 non-working days I took him to baby club (and later toddler group) and did all the mum things that the other mothers were doing. But I had an escape, a balance.
This continued when I got pregnant (this time on purpose) with DD. DS was now at a very good day nursery, and as soon as I found out I was pregnant again I signed the new baby up for the same place (waiting lists being what they are around here). I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.
And this is how we’ve carried on. I gradually stopped going to toddler group when DD was about 2 - I found that I’d had my fill of talking about sleep patterns and weaning and toilet training - been there, done that, time to move on, and I now work 4 days a week. I’ve been exceptionally lucky with the nursery both children went to (and which DD is still at). It’s a lovely, warm and caring place, which both kids have loved, and that’s enabled me to go off to work happily and with a clear conscience.
I’m firmly convinced that I’m not cut out to be a mum and nothing else. I'm sure working has saved my sanity, and I don’t think it would have been good for me or the kids if I’d given up everything to look after them. And my working, which involves some business travel, has given DH the opportunity to be a very involved dad too (as well as giving us some security - although he is better paid than I could ever be in my line of work, his job is in the technology industry and is fairly insecure).
As to not wanting kids - well, I couldn’t imagine my life without those two people in it now (although I must admit that I’m still not really a ‘baby’ person - of course I adored mine, but they’re far more interesting now at 5 and 3!). I’ve had to give up some things, but I’ve gained so much, including becoming a far more mellow and balanced person (or so close friends tell me). And I’m really enjoying watching them grow up and learn stuff (guess that’s the biologist in me coming out...).
What at the time I though was the worst thing in the world to happen to me has turned out pretty well so far, all things considered!
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no subject
Date: 2003-09-06 03:56 pm (UTC)I think the 3 to 12 is when children are the most fun. They can do more things. They want to be around you. And, everything is fun and interesting to them.