The funny side to life as a working single Mum. My stories of embarrassing escapades, toddler tantrums and great expectations.
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?
Sunday, 23 December 2012
P!nk: Breastfeeding idol.
Watching her triumph of a video for her recent single 'Try' she is the same strong minded and talented woman she always was, despite being a wife and mother. What interests me more with this version of P!nk is that the woman you see is not only a mother, but a breastfeeding mother.
P!nk breastfeeding her 15 month old daughter Willow in September.
Flexible and toned in the video for 'Try.'
When I saw the photo of P!nk above published on Twitter by her husband and read her views on breastfeeding, my respect and appreciation of her as an artist and woman grew further. In an interview with Alan Carr she said a guy walked past her feeding Willow in a restaurant and made some comment that it was disgusting. P!nk's response: 'You obviously didn't get enough of this when you were young!' Brilliant! What a perfect response to an ignorant individual. I still find it shocking that anyone could consider reacting in this way. I breastfeed in public regularly and will continue to do so as long as Ethan is interested! At 5 months he shows no signs of giving it up any time soon and is welcome to continue as long as we can. I plan to return to work when Ethan is around 9 months old so we will have to adapt but we will work it out. The further along our breastfeeding journey we go, the happier I am that I was able to continue. We gain so much from our breastfeeding relationship, not just in terms of the health benefits, but our bonding experience. It is difficult to explain it fully, but while it puts the pressure on, I think there is also a part of me which likes that feeding Ethan is something only I provide. Don't think this is some kind of attack on bottle feeding Mums, it isn't. Every parent does what is best for their child and them, which deserves no judgement. Just as no person has the right to judge a breastfeeding mother in a restaurant, no one can judge those who bottlefeed.
Looking at P!nk as a mother and woman I see strength and beauty in body and mind. If she isn't a positive role model, I don't know who is. I feel as though P!nk has almost grown up alongside me, from a rebellious young woman to a wife and mother. Hopefully I still have a little rebellion still left in me yet!
Wednesday, 28 November 2012
Up in arms.
For some unknown reason I switched on to 'Lorraine' one morning this week while having breakfast as Ethan played in his gym. What I was faced with was four women discussing arms. Yes, you heard me right. Arms. In a deadly serious tone, as though they were finding a soution to world conflict or poverty. Apparently ladies, getting the correct size, style and tone of arm is the key to a happy Christmas and I dare say a happy life. Shit the bed, if I had known that I wouldn't have spent years searching for true love, good friends and building a family. I also wouldn't have bothered learning anything, teaching or writing. Cheers for the enlightenment Lorraine and chums.
I understand that obviously body image, dieting and exercise are topics of conversation on these shows but with a focus on arms it is more comedy gold than anything else. After watching a few minutes I decided to bake a massive cake with a shit load of sugar and butter in. That's my Christmas fucked then. If only I had paid more attention to Lorraine. Imagine the headlines: 'Daytime telly saved my arms AND family Christmas.' I've missed my chance but there is still time for your arms to be saved.
As a Mummy mate said when I told her about the feature: 'Lorraine can cock right off.' Couldn't have put it better myself.
Disclaimer: this is written for entertainment purposes and is in no way a personal attack against Lorraine and the gang.
Tuesday, 23 October 2012
Keep Rollin', Rollin', Rollin'
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| Knackered from the rolling! |
The most challenging part of the whole thing was probably getting it attached to the door frame in the first place. It seems baby equipment really isn't built to be easy to make or set up at all. The pram/car seat/transformer is the worst, with its secret buttons and straps and parts it really is one of the biggest challenges of having a baby!
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| Woooooooooooooah! |
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| Happy in this awesome number! |
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| Modelling my new H&M outfit! |
Monday, 22 October 2012
Diablo Jo's Rockabilly Accessories: Treats for Mamma and Bambino!
In writing this blog I realised I have missed one thing which is probably more important to me than I like to make out: fashion. To clarify, when I say fashion I mean unique and original ideas and creations which make you look and feel good, not TOWIE inspired dullness. I like to think that I am far too interesting and clever to be bothered about silly things like clothes, make-up and hair but the truth is I am a girl and I like pretty things! Like I say to the teenage girls I teach, there is nothing wrong with enjoying these things but this doesn't stop you being a creative, intelligent individual! My style, if you can call it that, varies between poetic bohemian (ha!) to indie comic book geek to 50s rock 'n' roll. The later of the three is my favourite look but the one I have always struggled with. To embody real 50s glamour you need to maintain yourself well, from your hair to your nails it works best when you make an effort. Sadly, I don't have great nails and wear my hair short. While I love having short hair and think it suits me, it doesn't quite fit the 50s chic look. Here is where the rock 'n' roll comes in!
While pregnant I came across some outstanding headscarves which provide the perfect solution to my hair woes. Designed to tie in a typically retro style headscarves come in a range of cute and kitsch designs, from classic flowers to edgy tattoo inspired skulls, each and every one stunning! Throughout my pregnancy and beyond I wear Diablo Jo's creations, not only to help on bad hair days but to make a simple jeans and t-shirt combo far more glamorous! Since finding Diablo Jo's I have found an array of wonderful hair accessories which are just beautiful but the latest addition to the range is 'Bambino Diablo' which includes fabulous pieces for your little rocker! The skirts for girls are gorgeous and I can imagine they would make any little girl look and feel amazing. As for the boys there is an inspired range of beautifully crafted bibs in the same designs as the headscarves. Designed to make your little dude look similar to a cowboy they hold so much more style value than the usual dribble catchers without losing their practical value.
These are two of my favourite designs from the Bambino range:
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| Anchors Away! |
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| Skulls and Roses! |
Wednesday, 17 October 2012
A lesson in poo-cabulary!
Recently Ethan had a bad case of trapped wind which nothing seemed to fix. It just stayed inside. After two days of praying to the Poo Gods we finally had action and it was everywhere! Honestly, my prayers were well and truly answered with that bad boy!
When comparing poo notes with another Mum I was introduced to her term for these poo explosions of a poo-nami! Brilliant! Poo-nami has possibly become my favourite of the poo-cabulary! It is simple, clever and funny with all the makings of a perfect play on words which I hope will one day be included in the Oxford English Dictionary.
Sadly, these poo-cabulary additions to the English Language will just have to stay here in my own personal Dictionary. For now at least.
Poo-cabulary:
Poo-aholic
1: one who feels compulsively the need to talk about poo.
2: one who likes studying and talking about poo to the excess.
Poo Gods
1: the Being perfect in power, wisdom, and goodness who is worshipped as creator and ruler of the universe
2: a being or object believed to have more than natural poo attributes and powers and to require human worship.
2: a being or object believed to have more than natural poo attributes and powers and to require human worship.
3: a person or thing of supreme poo value.
4: a powerful ruler of poo.
4: a powerful ruler of poo.
Poo-nami
1: a great wave produced especially by submarine poo movement or volcanic arse eruption.
Tuesday, 9 October 2012
Fifty Shades of Grey? Give me food porn any day.
My name is Catherine and I am a food porn-aholic.
I don't know if it is just me or whether I have just reached that stage, or should I say age? I have never watched soaps, I don't follow sport and reality TV rarely catches my attention. I only ever watch the odd comedy show, documentary and so it seems, food shows. I love it. From 'Masterchef' to 'Come Dine with Me' nothing makes a night in better than a lovely bit of rump, a sexy salad and a tarty torte! I even found myself watching the Hairy Bikers tour the US the other day. Although, honestly, the show is really good and really funny AND hairy! What more could you want on a dull Wednesday night?
I am not too sure why I enjoy watching these shows so much. I am not a chef, nor do I aspire to be one. I do not consider myself a 'foodie' of any kind and I am not a wine snob by any means. I enjoy baking and I think I am pretty good at it. Either that or my family and friends have been lying to me about how much they enjoy my cakes! I enjoy what you could consider fine dining and wine but I also enjoy nothing more than a huge plate of hot wings and a bottle of Budweiser. So, why the addiction to food shows?
My first guess is that I like food. A lot. A simple answer which leaves this piece rather redundant and surely there must be more to it that just being a greedy bitch who likes cakes. A lot. . Often my menu of the day consists of half finished mugs of tea and super noodles topped off with lashings of custard creams and bourbons while looking after my now 9 week old son; hardly fine dining. Why then, would I want to watch Ramsay shout at his desperate chefs: 'Move your arse Big Boy and get the beef in the fucking oven!' on a loop for 45 minutes? The first answer is that it is funny; harsh but funny. The best example of classic Ramsay humour I recall is the occasion he offered a challenger the advice of 'don't fuck it, make love to it' when referring to kneading bread. If this isn't both drama and comedy gold, I don't know what is. The second answer is that when a chef on the show actually produces something so good looking that I don't know whether to make love to it, fuck it or eat it. While I may never have the skill to produce something this good or the money to pay someone else to, it is an aspiration to what I could eat. The possibilities through food shows are endless.
This leads me to the comparison between my love of food porn and the current addiction of millions of women to 'Fifty Shades of Grey' critic dubbed Mummy porn. When women read 'Fifty Shades of Grey' they apparently gain an erotically charged satisfaction missing from their day to day lives. Through Mr Grey and his chamber of secrets or whatever the fuck it is they too can live out their fantasy of becoming a sex slave. How wonderful. In my alternate universe, however, I can use the likes of Mr Ramsay to live out my food fantasies. I too can become a slave to scallops, a seducer of saffron and get scandalous with savignon blanc. That's a posh wine right? It sounds French so it must be posher than a bottle of Blue Nun at least.
When it comes to porn you can keep your whips and chains. Save them for Gaga and Rhianna and pass me a knife and fork. Kinky eh?
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