Friday, 23 September 2016

Being a guilty, (pregnant) full-time working mum



Before starting my new, full-time job in January I often wondered how other mothers coped. I'd coveted my current role for a long time. I'm still working in the same School, in January it will be 8 years since I started there, but I would go as far to say that this is my ideal job. I work a lot more with the children which I love and I get all of the School holidays and with Ava now being in full-time education this couldn't be more perfect. I feel so lucky to love my job as much as I do and will 100% be returning to it after my maternity leave. The hours are long though, I start at 8.15am which means I have to leave my house and drop Ava off by 7.40am, and I don't finish work until 5.15pm. This means that the weekends are precious and time together in the evenings is scarce.

I've had to become something I've never been before, organised! Her uniform has to be be ironed & layed out the night before. I have to also plan what I'm wearing the night before so that I'm not dithering in the morning. We plan our weekly meals and I sometimes prepare ingredients in the slow cooker the night before so that it's all ready to pop on to cook in the morning.

I never have the time for breakfast so I'll take a porridge pot into work with me and will make myself a cup of tea and some toast to accompany it once work has quietened mid-morning.

But the one thing I can't shake is the guilt. I'm 17 weeks pregnant, and exhausted. Evenings are a scramble of dinner, bath & bed. I rarely have time to sit and play with Ava which always leaves me feeling sad. My favourite time is when we lie in her bed together, after story time, we cuddle and she tells me about her day. I live for the weekends at the moment.  But even then we're incredibly busy, catching up on housework, errands, birthday parties, visiting family and Ava's Sunday morning gymnastics club. Before I know it, it's Monday again and the whole rigmarole starts once more.

I have 5 weeks until October half-term, when I'll get to spend a whole week with my girl, but I do feel like I'm wishing my life away.

On Sunday evenings I end up feeling guilty, did I play with her enough? Tell her that I love her enough? Or did my exhaustion get the better of me as I fear it usually does, and I end up feeling like a snappy old bag.

It never gets easier does it?




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