Sleep’s got to be right up there as one of the, if not the, most talked about topics by parents across the land. At one stage, ‘how’s he/she sleeping?’ was the first question on my lips as I heaved my over-loaded pushchair into a cafe to sit and gulp down strong coffee with a group of other over-tired mums. That stage seemed to last for a while, as I’ve already written about.
It does get better (as I’d reassure my former sleep-deprived self if I could), but then there are lapses. And Continue reading
I’ve got flu. I’m in bed for the third day in a row – all I have managed is to take some tentative steps into the sitting room today and help change a nappy. But then I retired (slowly) to bed.
It’s times like this that I’m so grateful my husband is so hands-on – which sounds like such a dated phrase nowadays, but by which I mean he prioritises Scrip over his other activities and feels confident enough to take sole charge at short notice. From what I hear, not every newish dad is like that.
I’m gradually feeling better, day by day. But it’s frustrating to feel weak and helpless. I haven’t felt this fluey since I was at school. I know I’ve probably been overdoing it; particularly working outside work hours. And that weakens immunity – so it will be a lesson.
Until then I will get well and focus on not letting Scrip or my husband get ill.
A conversation I had this week summed up so many I’ve had since I’ve been back at work. Them: ‘But don’t you just want a job now that means you can leave on time? And if your baby’s sick don’t you want to be able to take a day off at short notice?’ Me: ‘Yes, and yes.’ Them: ‘So that’s surely your priority now? So maybe it’s time to settle for something which will allow flexibility in hours, first and foremost?’ Me: ‘Er…’
Of course, having a baby focuses your mind on the important role family plays in your life, and how your job’s ultimately there to provide money to support you and said family. That’s unequivocal. But I refuse to subscribe to the equation which seems to boil down to ‘no children = enjoy work OR children = don’t enjoy work’.
Work is different when you have a child – especially one you’re responsible for picking up and dropping off at exact times. No longer can I faff at the end of the day and stay a bit longer – if I’m not gone by 5.40 on my ‘early’ leaving days, I won’t make it back in time. And an after work drink with a client or colleague is more of a long-lead operation than a casual email the day before. Add to that the seed of parental anxiety that’s now ever-present in the back of my mind, and probably always will be. Continue reading
I’ve been planning a blog post about something totally different, but I’m just so tired I can’t muster the words. So instead I’m going to write a bit about being tired. Maybe it will send us both to sleep. I’m certainly ready.
The epidemic started during pregnancy – in those early weeks when I was so exhausted after a day at work the stairs seemed like Everest. Then there was the late pregnancy tiredness, accompanied by the kind of aches and pains I didn’t expect to be experiencing for at least a few more decades. Then the hazy, day/night merging tiredness punctuated by black-out sleeps if I did manage to nap during the day. And finally the ‘up 4 times a night’ tiredness with days fuelled solely by caffeine.