Oops… there goes gravity

I’m on my last few weeks of maternity leave and trying to get myself back in the mindset of Dolly Parton and the 9 to 5. Let me get one thing straight – maternity leave is no holiday. You are responsible for keeping a tiny human alive. It’s a bloody hard job. But, it’s a really rewarding one. I can’t quite believe how quickly the time has gone. Sonny will be be eight months and a bit when I return to the office, part-time. My heart is already breaking at the thought of leaving him to ease myself back into the working world. On the really rough days, you fantasise about having a day, or holy shit, a night to yourself. Me and hubby have had a few evenings off, but all you do is talk about your little human, wriggling and (probably) wailing at home in the care of your loved ones.

It’s a very personal decision for every woman whether or not to return to work. For me, at least, it is a financial necessity. But, it’s also a way for me to retain some aspect of me, the me before I had Sonny. I’ve drifted into journalism as a career path, but it will never make me a millionaire. While I love the freedom that money gives you, it’s never been my god. Certainly, as I grow older and become more comfortable in my skin, I know, the most important thing in your life is the people that are in it. As a good friend once said to me, “everything else is just stuff”.

Still, I have fire in my belly. I am ambitious and passionate and I know I’ve a lot to give this world. I’ve coasted a lot throughout my 20’s and 30’s and there’s nothing wrong with that. I just know that I’m more than a sum of my parts. I can be a great mum and a woman with a career. That’s important to me. I think it’s a lot down to my mother, who has always encouraged us to work hard, and follow our hearts. “The world is your oyster,” she has said again and again.

That all said, my heart is breaking at the thought of leaving Sonny to nursery. My little baby who is fast becoming a little boy. I treasure every second with you, my love, your cries, your sighs, your giggles, your snores. I adore you with everything that I am. I don’t want to miss a thing… and before I start sounding like an Aerosmith record, I’ll tear myself back from the brink, and know that what I’m doing is the right thing. It’s hard, bursting that perfectly imperfect bubble of motherhood, the lazy mornings where it’s just you and me, you pushing your tiny fingers into my face, staring into my eyes, giggling at me pulling silly faces.

Yes, it’s time to face the next chapter, where I return to work and you, Sonny, become a little boy. I am so, so proud of the beautiful, bright and funny little guy that you becoming, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life making you happy and helping you become a good man. To do that though, I also need to look after me. I’ll be a better mum if I am fulfilling my dreams, although, even I do nothing than be your mum, I’ve won the lottery a million times.

My sun, moon and star boy…


Something’s gotta give, mama!

I overheard an exhausted mother utter this while having my morning Americano in a local cafe while Sonny squirmed and floundered in his buggy. She was sat just across from me, unloading to a pregnant friend. Don’t judge me, I know ear-wigging is a bit naughty but I just couldn’t help myself. We’ve all done it, right? She lamented that she’d got the kids ready this morning while her husband scrolled through the news on his phone. This is normal, for her husband. Even though she was justified in complaining, she still tried to explain it away. She even said, “it’s routine, I’m used to it now.” I felt really sad for her and then I realised that this attitude still prevails in the 21st century.

A lot is expected of women, true. We’re traditionally the homemakers, the life givers, the child raisers, all the while in many cases, holding down a part-time or full-time job. Damn, it’s not easy. I’m on maternity leave with the clock counting down to my return to work. I’m adjusting to my new role as mother okay, I hope, but it’s a full-time job looking after a baby while keeping on top of the laundry, the dishes, the bottle cleaning, tidying, cleaning etc.

An average day goes like this:

  • Get up and quick shower.
  • Feed Sonny.
  • Change nappy and get him dressed (sometimes several times if the poo train comes to town).
  • Coffee.
  • Entertain/soothe Sonny.
  • Attempt to do some writing.
  • Change nappy.
  • Try and put Sonny down for a nap. It’s hard to know whether he wants to play or sleep!
  • Put on a wash.
  • Fold and put away dry clothes
  • Feed cat.
  • Make lunch for hubby.
  • Feed Sonny.
  • Wash up dishes.
  • General tidy.
  • Put on another wash.
  • Take Sonny for a walk/get fresh air before my head explodes.
  • Supermarket for baby stuff.
  • Wash and steralise bottles (several times throughout day).
  • Entertain and or soothe Sonny.
  • Do a bit of writing.
  • Bath time (I might as well be getting a bath too).
  • Get Sonny ready for bed.
  • Feed Sonny.
  • Ah shit, he’s not for sleeping.
  • Dishes.
  • Prepare bottles for during the night/morning.
  • Bed.

The above is subject to change obviously and some days are smoother than others. It depends on the boss. My beloved does help, of course. Maybe I feel that I should be doing the lion’s share because I’m not working… wait a minute. I can’t imagine juggling life once I return to work. Working mums are superhuman. Fact.

All said and done, motherhood is wildly rewarding. Sonny is getting more fun by the day. He’s mastering sitting up, rolling and babbling in the cutest way. It makes me turn to jelly. He bloody better not say “dada” first which it’s looking like more and more each day. I know I’ve it easier than a lot of mums out there. If you’re one of them or by some amazing coincidence the woman I overheard this morning (sorry!), slow down and take a breather – something’s gotta give or you’ll break. You’re doing amazing. More than that, you’re a wonder woman. I salute you.

Speaking of super humans, meet Super Sonny One Sock!