I am a guilt-ridden working Mama

I am half way through my third week back working.  It has been a quick two and half weeks and I am learning a lot.  It was time for me to go back to work.  I didn’t wake up on a Monday morning two and a half weeks ago filled with a sense of dread and impending Monday morning blues.  I bounced from my bed and waved a cheery bye bye to my family and then flounced off to the airport and jet-setted my way to London for the day.  I had umpteen cups of coffee uninterrupted, I had a whole magazine to read all to myself with no one to demand it from me, no one to listen out for or to keep one eye on.  Just me and my magazine and my coffee and for a split second, I felt like my pre-baby self.  I enjoyed my first day at work.  The only person that covered me in food that day was me, because I am, in nature, a messy eater!  

But as I waited for my flight back home, and got a moment to really think about what was going on in my little house in Dublin, I got a little bit sad.  The desire to see my little Dolly’s smiling face was over whelming!  We had a skype date, and she was only delighted to see me. Waving and blowing kisses, and I sat in the airport and it made me want to cry. Which was silly, because I have left her much longer than a couple of hours in a day and not felt that way!

From that moment on I have been torn in two.  On one hand, I am so happy being back at work. It is brilliant to be back in an office, having a structure to my day, having a weekend to look forward to again!  But on the other hand, I feel so guilty. I feel guilty that I am away from her.  I feel guilty that I am enjoying my time away from her.  I feel guilty that sometimes, when we have had a rough night of little sleep or painful teeth that I long for bed time.  I feel guilty that there are things I can’t do with her. That there are things that I am missing out on.

She stood up on her own for the first time on Monday.  She made her first independent stand, in a crèche, surrounded by wonderful girls that are genuinely delighted she did this.  But I wasn’t there.  I didn’t get to see her first attempt at this.  I missed it. And this is what its going to be like.  Big steps and little steps will be recounted to me by people that I pay to take care of her, while I am in work enjoying myself.  And this makes me feel so guilty.

I know that there are hundreds and thousands of parents that have children in childcare.  They are there by choice or necessity so I am not alone in the sadness of missing these things.  But since I started back to work, as much as I am enjoying it, I feel a lot of guilt a lot of the time.

On the other side of things, working has made me value the time I am with her.  Doing things with her, getting down and playing with her, bringing her to the park and the beach and just out on walks around the neighborhood are the top of the list of priorities now, not the laundry or the dinner or the cleanliness of the floors or any of that stuff that creeps in and distracts you. 

I am beginning to realise that guilt and worry come with the stretch marks and war stories… Wouldn’t it be grand if we could split ourselves in two? 

The thing about it is, and I’ve given this a lot of thought, even if I was in a position where I never had to worry about money and working was optional, I really think that I would choose working in some capacity.  And this hypothetical scenario makes me feel really really guilty. 

I have never looked forward to finishing work as much in my life as I look forward to the end of the working day now.  I get excited little butterflies flapping around my tummy.  The traffic is too slow for me.  The lights are too red.  Every day I go to collect her, I race in and scoop her up and smoother her with kisses and cuddles and love and try to put out of my head the guilt and just remember that I am doing the best I can do for her.

New start in an old place

Today marked the first day that I have worked in over a year and a half.  The time to leave my happy Mama bubble arrived, and with it brought a new opportunity to rejoin an old company that I loved to work for.  It was fate, destiny, sheer blessed luck that the opportunity arose at the same time that I had decided it was time to return to the working world.

I spent my final employment free weekend lounging about, enjoying my daughter, mildly hungover from a little bit too much prosseco and taking advantage of the much loved 'cat nap' that will no longer be available to me.  Do I have regrets about my  time off work?

Well, yes. I regret not maximising my cat napping potential, that's for sure.  It is with great sadness that I look back on all those wasted nap times... great sadness indeed. I wish I had have spent more time enjoying my daughter instead of cleaning... bahahaha, I can just hear my husbands incredulous scoffing ringing in my ears. Cleaning. I think I did heavy housework a grand total of about 6 times. Housework isn't my strong point. Clean bathrooms, clean kitchen, clean sheets, but don't pick up anything, move any furniture or look under anything either. You will most likely find tumbleweed and a family or two of spiders. I am a firm believer and regular promoter of the 'out of sight out of mind' cleaning policy. I do wish I had have done one of them toddler and parent things.  They would have been great. And even though I had over a year and a half to find one to participate, I never bothered. Mainly because they were always around Holly's nap time. Partly because I'm not great with new people. I like my old comfy well worn in people. New ones don't always fit so well.

What I don't regret are my mornings in bed watching my little one feeding herself. Imagining how picture perfect we must look, lying in my bed, lovingly looking at one another - until she has enough of the bottle and flings it at my head while trying to show me, rather aggressively, where my eye is. Ah, our morning eye pokes and attempted nasal amputations, I will miss them.

My Dolly is loving being in crèche. Thankfully, she has settled in so well and is a happy little monkey. Has even said the word crèche more than once. She's a genius, but I'm holding off on getting her tested because the other day I walked into the kitchen to find her sitting in front of her reflection on the fridge door with two fingers up her nose and her leaning forward to lick herself - that sort of dashed any notions I was starting to get!

My first day in my new old job was quiet successful. I flew to London - the wee jet setter that I am.  It's nothing as glamourous as you imagine the jet setting life to be, and frankly, I think I would hate it. But as a novelty, sure it was lovely sitting in the airport waiting on the flight this morning, reading a trashy mag and drinking tea while slowly removing my Mama hat, dusting the cobwebs and spiders of my worker hat and screwing that bad boy to me.  The novelty of travelling has already worn off, 12 hours since it began. Why? I am currently trapped in London City Airport breathing the same stale air since 5.30pm waiting on a flight that has been delayed till 8pm. And I moan about Dublin Bus???

Speaking of Dublin Bus, today I learned that it's not just the smellies on buses and trains that like to sit beside me and stink up my personal space. Oh no! No! They find me on aeroplanes too. I had a gentleman, and I am playing pretty fast and loose with the term gentleman here, sitting beside me and I am unsure as to whether there was a smell of pooh off him because he didn't change his underwear or because he had a big bowl of it for his breakfast and has never encountered a tooth brush and / or mouthwash. Either way, it made for a pretty rancid 90 minutes flight. I was gasping for some fresh air by the time I disembarked that particular flight.

On the plus side, London results in a lot of walking...my waste line could enjoy this travel!

And so ends my synopses of my first day back in taxable employment.  I have missed it. I have enjoyed it and I am glad that I am leaving my baby in very capable hands for something that I want to do.

Now, I think I might get myself a delayed flight glass of vino!

Bye bye Baby

It's been an emotional couple of days. I am officially no longer a Mama to a baby. I have graduated to Mama of a toddler.  I could hold off on labeling her that until she started to walk... but the time has come. Yes, my little Dolly has started taking her first tentative steps independently. She's getting so brave that she actually let go of my hand herself yesterday evening and wobbled off. I was overcome with the desire to cheer and sob uncontrollably, all at once. I went with cheering.

It's also been emotional because today marks her first official day in creche. I left her for two hours last week and the little rip didn't even flinch when I said goodbye to her. Had a great time for herself and didn't want to come home. She actually screeched and shook her head when I said "come on let's go". But this morning she broke my heart! As I was leaving her she started to cry. The only time she ever says Mama is when she's crying so her parting gift to me was a big fat wobbly lip and a howled and pained cry of MaaaaaMmmmmmaaaaaaaa.

I am currently sitting at the kitchen table fighting the urge to go check on her. The rational part of me knows that all that stopped within five minutes of my leaving.  The unrational side is planning on handing in my notice before I even get my start date and staying with her forever and ever amen... I am glad I am not prone to overreacting.

The third and final reason it's been emotional is that I have finally accepted that seeing as my baby is now a toddler, I can no longer be claiming to be still carrying baby weight. I must acknowledge that I am just carrying weight and putting the word baby in front of it doesn't make it cute! It is time.... as I sat on my couch on Saturday night rubbing the food baby that was growing in my tummy I realised there's only one thing for it.... surgery

Ah no,  that's a bit drastic... gonna head on back to my local weight watchers and give it all another good solid bash!

Pass me a Soap Box - I need a rant

This evening has been a feckin disaster with my favourite tiny human.  As you are aware from previous posts, sleeping has been troublesome, to say the least, in the last number of days but we appear to be moving out of that phase and into a new more acceptable stage.  Until this evening that is. Until the local feckin Mr. Whippy Van came booting his way around the estate, blaring his out of tune theme song from Yankee Doodle or something stupid and frightened the shite (literally) out of the poor child. She had been out for the count and this feckin fool woke her at 8.30pm.

Now, I have a number of questions here. If your stupid music is so loud that it can be heard through noise cancelling triple glaze windows, do you think maybe it's too loud?

Also, it's the 13th May. What child is out on the road at 8.30pm on the 13th of May?

Furthermore, who is going to fling their front door wide open at 8.30pm on a chilly Wednesday evening declaring "Iscream, youscream, we all scream for icecream" and purchase 99's for their sleeping or about to sleep children?

It took us nearly two hours to settle the poor love back to sleep. Two flippin hours. I tell you, I'll give Mr Whippy a good feckin whippin if he bursts into this estate tomorrow night...

*I am aware that I sound like a grumpy old biddy...

Toddlers... The Persistent Game Changers

Toddlers... For tiny humans, they sure can keep you on your toes. Every time I think I have this parenthood thing licked, my lovely little Dolly takes a look and her Mum and Dad and declares to her little toddler self "ha! Got the hang of me now have you? I'll show you!"and then bam! The game changes completely.

I didn't want to say anything, because the last time I verbalised it (or typed it) she up ended everything on me, but Holly had been sleeping from 7 to 7 for nearly two weeks straight.  Then, for another two weeks straight, she started to sleep 7 to 8! Oh my God. I couldn't believe my wonderful luck! It was amazing...

But as I have said many times "this too shall pass". And pass it has. For the last week she has decided that she will only sleep from 7.30pm until circa 9.30pm. She will proceed to scream the house down until she gets out of her room for ten minutes and given a top up of a bottle.  Then she will sleep till 11.30pm and scream and scream until she is in the bed beside me and her poor Dad is in the spare room. She has adopted his side of the bed, so much so that she pokes him in the face if he's in her spot. She will happily fall asleep beside until 6.30am have a bottle and go back to sleep at 7am until 10am.

Thus leading me to the conclusion that I do not, in fact, have this parenthood thing licked. The only thing I have licked is her feckin soother as I pick it up off the floor and "clean" the germs off it.

I liked to believe that it was I that had her under control, but I beginning to think that it is the other way around.  I also used to think I was the Queen of World and the Boss of Everything... But I now accepted that I have been ousted from my throne.

7 Questions you should ask yourself at the end of every day

Earlier today I was reading an article on www.huffingtonpost.com about the seven questions we should ask ourselves at the end of every day. Here goes:

What did I learn today?

Today I  learnt two things; 

There is nothing quiet like a bum shuffling, no shoe wearing toddler to highlight just how clean your floors aren't.  My lovely little Dolly has a streak of not so white where she shuffles along the floor. Perhaps I should make more out of that investment in the Vax Steam mop which was made earlier in the year. Can I say that I am building her immune system?

I was already mildly aware of this, but when I have studying to do I can procrastinate like no bodies business.  In the hour my Dolly was having her afternoon nap I made pancakes for her to have for a snack, marinaded sliced up pieces of steak for an elaborate steak sandwich for our dinner and contemplated cleaning out the "mess press" in the kitchen that contains recipes, nail varnish, hen party bunny ears and who knows what other array of crap.

How do I feel?

I feel happy with a dull ache of anxiety at having procrastinated so much while my little Dolly was in bed this afternoon. Really should have made more of an effort to do that studying... 

How did I make others feel today?

Well now, to be fair, I haven't really asked anyone I dealt with but my guess is amazing. Yep. I reckon everyone that has encountered my happy face today feels amazing. What can I say, I am a ray of sunshine on a permanent basis.  I have spent time with two friends, a husband, three toddlers and new-ish born and spoke to a lady in Meteor customer care and I am positive that if you were to speak to any of the above they would confirm how amazing they felt in my presence.

What can I do better tomorrow?

I could probably make a bigger effort with the studying malarkay. And definitely try and make a dent on my odd job to do list (uh-oh... I sense some more procrastination, is that a fridge freezer that needs defrosting??)

What am I grateful for? 

I am grateful for a lot. My health, my husbands health, my daughters health, the friends and family that have been so amazing to me, especially since I became a mother and realised how important they all are, the sun (cause I'll get the feckin washing dry), having a cup of tea from start to finish with no interruptions this afternoon, calpol and nurofen. I have a lot to be very thankful for and I am always a "count your blessings" kind of gal.

How much stress did I experience today?

Considering I am parent to a "wobbler" (a toddler that's learning to walk, and boy oh boy is she a wobbler) I haven't experienced a lot of stress today. We had a dodgy moment when she had a fight with a bag that wouldn't open, but apart from that we were nice and relaxed today.

What made me smile?

Finishing that cup of tea. Seeing my Dolly playing with the other toddlers. Seeing my friends and having a go of the new-ish born baby. He did cause my womb to give a little thud of desire for another tenant, but then my Dolly start whinging at me and that silenced it.

So that was my day. Apparently, asking these questions every day will help us all to be more positive and optimistic and sure we could all do with a little more positivity and optimism in our lives right? 

It's been sixteen glorious months

It really has been glorious! It has been fifteen months since I did a taxable days work.  Granted, three of them months were spent trying to prevent my pelvis from splitting in two, two of them days was spent pushing a tiny human through a tinier hole and one more month was spent in a flurry of hormones and lady aches.  But, nonetheless, it's been sixteen months.

It's the first time since I began working back in the 90's in Roches Stores that I have not been on a taxable job. I say a taxable job because, while I have been untaxed, I can promise you I have never worked as hard in my life! Or being as rewarded for my work either.  But I digress...

I have had the privilege of being at home for all this time with my little love. I have had the honor of spending the last thirteen months being the one to watch my little one grow and change from this floppy headed, screaming, puking bundle to a hilariously entertaining, walking, babbling toddler. And my God can she babble.  From the moment she opens her eyes until she closes them, gooble-dee-gook all day. Think she gets the chatterbox head from her Dad. 

But the time has come. I am ready to return to the work place and have, happily, secured myself a position.  It is quiet the ideal position. Part time to begin with, four mornings a week and one full day, until the end of the year. Then full time from there. It'll be grand to ease myself back into the work place. And of course ease herself into creche life. I am both excited and nervous at the thought of returning to work.  My head has been all about Mama life for the last fifteen months. I have enjoyed it so much. Not worrying about deadlines and reports and meetings and only concerned with food, nappies, sleep routines, feeding routines, temperatures, vomiting, pooh-ing, washing, cleaning, cooking... sure it'll be like a holiday going back to work! 

One of the things I am most looking forward to is coffee breaks and lunches.  Imagine! Being able to finish a cup of coffee before it goes cold and grey. And lunch! A whole meal without anyone wanting to eat what I am eating and the only one likely to destroy me with the contents of it is me! I am most excited about this!!! 

In preparation for my return to work, I have decided to  take on the challenge of a bit of study. And by a bit of study I actually mean a FETAC Level 6 Diploma in Event Management. And as I do love a challenge, I have signed up to completing the studying and submission of assessments for this course by 30 June 2015. So, given that I can calm the temper tantrum of a one year old as she fights with the lid of her toy teapot for not opening far enough, completion of this course will be a piece of cake!

Delightfully, and in wonderful timing fashion, my little Dolly decided that last Friday was the day she was going to start walking sort of independently.  She took off with a little walker thing like a bat out of hell and my once nervous nelly is now so confident it is bordering on cocky.  She is now walking along furniture, moving between furniture, walking along walls. 

Basically, we are screwed! We need stair gates and plug blockers (in another life I could have made a very rude comment here), lift everything that is at tiny human height and bolt anything that moves to the floor or wall. I've already lost a beautiful vase... but that was probably more to my cleaning abilities than the child. So it's all go in the McCarthy household!