My new, full-time job has surprised me with its intensity. Who'd have thought choosing to be a stay-at-home mum would leave me a withered wreck at day's end with hardly two brain cells left to rub together? Then sleep before the whole relentless cycle begins again the following day.
I'm not a single parent – God bless those who are!, but my partner's job requires him to be away a lot, which leaves me at home minding our two young children: Morgan, nearly five and at preschool three days a week, and Ayla, nearly two, entirely in my care.
When I first decided to take on my new job, I imagined a more relaxed life after the hectic juggle of work and childcare I undertook last year, which left me a stressed out freak with a twitch in my right eye. Yet, when my partner went on a two-and-a-half-week tour recently, it surprised me when I broke down in tears on the phone as he raced back to Sydney from Melbourne. I promised myself I wouldn't do it – he'd be home soon enough, but when I saw a missed call from him on my mobile phone, I called back, and it poured forth.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"The kids are soooo intense," I cried.
It'd been one of those weeks with children when everything implodes: my daughter decided she didn't want to take her daily nap; my son whinged and cried every time I asked him to do something; then we all got sick with a 24-hour gastro thingy.
Mostly, though, it was my naivety that was my true downfall. I foolishly thought I could look after two children with no help at all, which meant no time for me to do those things I need to do to recharge, refresh, renew and revive: yoga, write, contemplate, meditate... and groom (I need all the help I can get nowadays as the wrinkles start to show and the body starts to sag).
The only thing I did do was get onto Facebook most nights and see what my 'friends' were up to, and have the occasional chat. Not the most intellectually stimulating, but perfect for a mushy brain that has played and argued with kids the day through.
The juggle of work and childcare over the past three years was stressful, but it kept my brain active and stimulated. I wouldn't say looking after children is boring, but it requires a different set of 'intellectual' skills: the enthusiasm to read kids books over and over again to my daughter, the patience to play kids games over and over again with my son, and, of course, the endurance to keep up with the constant demands, when what I really want to do is sloth on the lounge and read the paper.
It's little surprise that women fought to get out of the home and into the workforce, and it didn't take long for the economy to take advantage of this, with it virtually impossible today to pay off a mortgage on only one income. Lucky, it seems, I don't have one. (A mortgage, that is.)
A stay-at-home parent in our modern age is unusual, in many instances impossible (that darn mortgage to pay – or at least a damn good excuse not to return to the home on a full-time basis!), so I feel lucky to have been allowed the opportunity. Like any job, it has its many pleasures – in fact, no job has given me greater pleasure – and its frustrations, mostly when I am hankering for some time out, or I'm trying to do something with the kids shouting in the background, my nerves starting to frazzle. I become a snappy, snarky nag. Yet, I've worked out a way to get some more 'me' time and have just begun to put it into practice.
I've started to connect with other stay-at-home mums and we do a 'swap'. I've already gone to yoga, and I plan to use the beauty voucher I received for my birthday soon. Might even go for a massage or do a meditation class. It can only ever be random moments stolen every now and again, yet each second that is my own I promise to cherish. I shall inhale the calm and take time to give thanks for a life that is blessed with two divine cherubs.
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