The funny side to life as a working single Mum. My stories of embarrassing escapades, toddler tantrums and great expectations.
Showing posts with label grown up. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grown up. Show all posts
Monday, 10 June 2013
Only a Mother knows.
From this I have been thinking back on what I really gained, learnt from my childhood and one thing prevails. Be yourself. It may sound cliche but my parents really did and still do accept me and my brother for who we are, who we want to be, who we can be. For myself, I feel incredibly lucky to have parents who have been welcoming and accepting to my friends and past boyfriends. They have always instilled in me a link between my life in and out of their house. My parents have always accepted my hobbies and ever changing aspirations with support but an equal amount of realism. Most of all, my parents have always been open and accepting of my love for the unusual, whether that be fashion, music or tattoos. Although, I should probably add here that it was my Mum who got me into Siouxsie and the Banshees and persuaded me to listen to Marilyn Manson as a Greenday bopping teenager!
My parents have always been interested in our hobbies, our tastes, our life which was great. My Mum and Dad would stand in the crowd of my gigs playing drums in shit indie bands and in my days as an angst ridden goth singer! They even made it to a goth night to watch me DJ and my Mum always made sure I had big pants and tights to wear under my mini skirt! As I say, I think this is what I take most from my childhood and adulthood really: openness and acceptance.
Having such open parents does make it hard fucking work to rebel though. See Mum, I said fuck!
Even in adulthood my parents put up with me going through an array of fashions and phases along with going out with some pretty dodgy characters, several house moves and the decision to undertake teacher training after just 6 months living solo working in London. They still accepted me home for a year to do my teacher training. After this my parents allowed and accepted me travelling to Ghana alone for the summer which, while a woman of 26, I can see now how harrowing this would have been for them. In particular for my Mother, watching me check in at the airport knowing that from that moment on I am alone in an unknown world, without her protection or care.
Being a parent never ends. Being a Mother doesn't stop when they are off your hands. It just gets more difficult, as you are forced to let them go and learn to accept and love a new person. This person still holds the core of your baby, your child but has changed under the influence of not just you but the world outside of you. When we live in a world as cruel as ours, its no wonder this ensues madness.
Sunday, 21 April 2013
A full time working, full time Mother.
Over the past week I have breastfed Ethan on a busy 7am bus ride, taught a couple of hundred teenagers in total and pushed the buggy in heels, laptop and all on my back! I have laughed, cried and felt exhausted and elated. I will quickly explain the heels. Work trousers too big since buying two months ago. Didn't realise. No other trousers. Heels only shoes to stop trousers dragging on floor. Back to my week anyway. Teaching was great and I feel challenged and happy to be back at it, especially as I feel I am really making a difference on my new students. Ethan has settled into nursery and enjoyed time with my Mum but has been so poorly with teething and a two week long cough and cold. He hasn't been himself and has just wanted cuddle after cuddle. This is the terrible bit of being at work; I am not there 24/7 to give cuddles. I have cried when Ethan cried at my leaving him but had to pull myself together to teach year 9. This is a positive of teaching, in that there is no time to wallow. Your students are the priority and your focus is on their needs.
This weekend has been a joy. Our family together just playing and cuddling. Watching Ethan learn and laugh, kissing and holding hands with my husband. Long walks in the sunshine, chips on the seafront and lazy afternoons spent with Disney. All the simple pleasures which make it all worth it.
Back to work now. I admit to feeling guilty and heart broken leaving Ethan to a horrific extent but I am still 100% Mummy. I am going to say something now which some people might not like but I have been thinking for a while: I hate the phrase 'full time Mum.' It offends me. It upsets me. It confuses me. If a Mum who stays at home is full time but a Mum who goes to work isn't then surely the working Mum a part-timer? It may be because on the brink of my return the prospect that my time with Ethan will be interrupted and limited, making me a part-time parent hurt me but I don't think it is just this. It's more than that. This is personal, political and social, reflecting all that is wrong in attitudes to the role of women. We are mothers, lovers, workers on many levels and yet there is still an imbalance here. Can society really see us as many faces on one imperfect body or are we destined to be typecast as a one woman show? On my bus journey to work this week it dawned on me that 'Shit! I'm a working Mum!' and I considered those words carefully. Just as the full time tag is problematic to me, so is the working Mum title. Don't we all work? Seriously, I have worked for my SMP the past 8 months and it was really tough. So, a Mum who stays at home past maternity leave is surely a working Mum? We are all full time workers, whether in or out of the home but most of all, we are all full time Mothers. Isn't that the most precious and important job of all, regardless of how we manage it?
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