By Jade Glen
Having kids makes the passing of time even more glaringly obvious.
When I started writing this column I was pregnant with my second child and my eldest daughter Lucy was just 18-months, toddling around in a nappy and obsessed with Teletubbies.
Now Lucy is about to turn four and is fascinated by dinosaurs and volcanoes and maps, and wants to know why we have bones, and if animals have bones too. She’s a scientist and an artist and an adventurer.
Maeve has just turned two and is speaking a million words a minute and is in to everything, wants to pick all the flowers, and loves her dolls. She is a comedian and an entertainer and an explorer.
It feels like only a minute ago that they were tiny babies, waking up seemingly every hour through the night, and then teething and crawling and drooling and clapping for the first time. It feels like yesterday I was pureeing pumpkin and broccoli but turns out it was actually about a year-and-a-half ago – although I’ve still got some suspect looking mixes at the back of the freezer.
Over the past two years I’ve written about ditching the dummy, holiday romances (Lucy’s), perpetual sickness, poo in the bath, tantrums, crappy Mother’s Day gift ideas and my disdain for Disney princesses. (Sorry Suzannah)
My girls have changed a lot, and so have I.
Since returning to work from my first stint of maternity leave I’ve tried just about every combination of days on for size- working one day, two days, three days, and now, four days in an office and some after-hours work from home.
Working is tough – I feel like I’m being pulled in every direction and not really succeeding in any. My mental to-do list is a mile long.
But I know staying home can be tough, too. It can be repetitive and isolating and lonely, at times.
I’m trying something new in a few weeks: starting a new full-time job close to home.
It will be hard to spend five days a week away from the kids and in the office, but it will have its benefits; I will be working just three minutes from home, so mornings will be a little less manic – I’ll have time to sit down and read a story when at 8am when the girls are dressed and want me to spend time with them before I barrel them in the car. I’ll get home at 5.15, so I’ll have more time to chat while we cook dinner.
After a year or two I might be able to adjust my hours so that I can drop off and pick up the girls from school, which is something I have always stressed about. (I have become obsessed with quizzing people of older kids how they juggle the school drop-offs and pick-ups – a story in itself)
So as we move on to new adventures, this will be my last column for The Motherload.
It’s been a blast sharing stories from my little family with you – thanks for reading.
