As sensitive a subject as Breast verses Bottle; I’m half
wincing even beginning this blogpost. The time old argument, or rather ‘discussion
point’ of Working Muma V’s Stay at Home Muma seems to rage on. Article after
article is written on the subject, all contradicting the last, all claiming to
be the latest research and written either by Earth Mother herself wrapped in
her tie dye gently rocking back and forth on a rush matt with a toddler feeding
from her, or City slicker Muma: louboutins- check!
These two extremes don’t really cater for The Lidl Muma –
and by that, I mean me! What’s right for the Muma that’s been educated reasonably
well?
I was fortunate enough to go to a very academic school, we
were all aboard the conveyor belt of GCSE’S, AS levels, A levels, and then on
to University as a standard. Utter scandal ensued should you have deviated from
this, the very thought of ‘vocational course’ was placed next to shelf stacker
as an option. From university I went on to work in recruitment mostly: I’m
basically very gobby which helps in a sales environment!
I remember the day I finished work and begun my journey in
to MatLeave like it was yesterday: An over indulgent lunch with my colleagues,
well friends actually; I spent 50 hours a week with these people! Anyway I bid
them all adios with armfuls of Pink goodies, vowing to return in a years time…
However, I just couldn’t tear myself away from my Darcie
shaped bundle. I even went to a keeping in touch day, shame it was a financial
planning meeting that had me wishing I could bolt out of the door. My brain
felt like mush, did I get the train through to Paris because I’m clearly not
speaking the same language anymore. That evening I broke the news to The
Hubster that I just couldn’t go back to work and asked if we could financially
survive.
If I’m totally honest I haven’t looked back since I waddled
out of the office door ready to embrace Mumahood. Don’t get me wrong, there
have been been moments where I have thought how lovely it would be to have a
lunch break, especially when I have been on an involuntary starvation day due
to a colicy baby, or a loo break sometimes, ALONE. And yes I have yearned to
have a quick browse around the shops on late-night Thursdays after work on more
than one occasion. But, and here’s the big but, my bottom line and my raison d’etre:
I don’t want to miss out!
I don’t want to be the one to miss the first step, or first
word – which would have been nice to be Muma just once: Dada got that, twice. It’s the more mundane everyday stuff that
makes you the constant: toddler tripped up and it was me that comforted her,
toddler cuts another tooth and needs more cuddles, toddler whacks victim for
custard cream at playgroup, – Hell, Toddler has morphed into ToddlerMonster and
chucks ‘treasure’ down the loo! I want
to be the observer, the comforter, the disciplinarian, and not miss a beat.
However, in my quest to Nurture have I thrown away a great
education and a career to boot? Is it realistically possible for me to return
to work and still not miss a single thing? Well, of course not because it’s
physically impossible to be in two places at once. It doesn’t seem fair that
nature has given women a heart wrenching choice to make: follow your career,
aspirations and dreams that you may have worked long and hard to build, before children.
Or park it. Can a happy medium be reached or do you just end up not achieving
either terribly well?
The responsibility I feel as a Stay At Home Muma to show my
girls that women are invaluable to the work place is huge, I’m not leading by
example here at all. I feel I must try to convince them that Muma is more than
just a cleaner / cook / driver / occasional fair weather gardener. I don’t want
them assuming that just because Muma doesn’t work I don’t have a brain and can’t
answer their billions of critical questions - I can work Wikipedia just as well
as the next Muma thanks. So with this in mind I’m now an upstanding member of
the Nursery PTA and a wannabe Blogger, the fact that Darcie has begun referring
to me as Muma On The Edge is frankly frightening.
This is a topic really close to my heart; I do strongly believe
that every Muma strives to do the very best they can for their babies, its nature’s
way. There is no perfect way to bring up our babies, just your way. And my god
I hope I don’t fuck this up…
No comments:
Post a Comment