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As a millennial I grew up being told that I can do anything I want, be anything I want to be and that we are the modern women who can “have it all”. I grew up wholeheartedly believing that to be the case and daydreaming of the fabulous career I was going to have, the perfectly obedient and academically gifted children. I gave birth twelve years ago to a beautiful baby boy and a lifetime of self imposed guilt. I agonised over every single decision I made for him, even something as simple as giving him a dose of Calpol wasn’t done without extensive research beforehand. As time went on and I became a mother for the second time I learned, but the hardest lesson of all was realising the harsh reality that I really can’t have it all. I CAN do anything but I can’t do everything.
Bevan was born a few weeks after my 24th birthday. As my friends were leaving university to start their careers I chose to embark on marriage and motherhood. So much for the glittering career. I was blissfully happy in my new role though and it’s only further down the road that I realise the compromise that I made.
There’s more pressure on parents than ever before. We are expected to work like we don’t have children and parent like we don’t have jobs. “It’s a balancing act” they say but to me balance would suggest some kind of equal harmony. There’s no harmony here, just sheer panic as I fling balls and hope they stay in the air.
My children are my number one priority and so I took a lesser paid position in return for the flexibility it offers me. The closest I can get to “having it all”. The downside is I often feel like I’ve traded in the wholesome mother I intended to be for a more stressed, more batshit version. I am ALWAYS rushing – to breakfast club, rushing to work with an eye on the clock to make sure I don’t get stuck at the level crossing, rush back to pick her up at the end of the day, dash home again so my son doesn’t come home to an empty house because obviously those few minutes unsupervised could be emotionally damaging, then off to whatever extracurricular activity they have that day (God forbid they don’t do ALL THE THINGS and grow up stunted), back home again for dinner (sometimes they eat something frozen, the me that used to serve them lightly steamed organic vegetables would disown myself)….and on it goes. When I’m at work I worry about them, did they have everything they needed this morning, did she remember her permission slip, I must remember that he has cooking on Wednesday, did he ask the maths teacher about that homework. Then when I’m at home I’ll be thinking about the promotion coming up next week, did I remember to do xyz. I often feel like I’m not giving either enough attention and that I’m just winging it and hoping for the best and now that I’m single and it’s down to me to provide for them I feel the pressure more than ever. What is it about motherhood that makes us feel like this? Are we genetically programmed to feel this way? I’m pretty sure their father didn’t feel like crying as he went off to work. This summer holidays has almost broken me, I feel terrible for every minute I’m not with them, and like I’m letting down my colleagues when I’m at home. I didn’t understand why my mum wasn’t as excited for the summer holidays as we were and now, OMG do I get it! I’m just trying to get through to September and I know when I drop them off on the first day back it will feel like I’ve run a marathon. It’s also the first summer since our “conscious uncoupling” and between working and us sharing time with them, I feel like I haven’t done enough and when I have been with them I’m overwhelmed by the need to be the greatest mother who ever mothered and have non stop adventures when they actually just want to stay home half the time and watch Netflix.
I don’t always get it right. I lose my temper, I say or do the wrong thing, my house is definitely not Pinterest perfect and half the time I have no idea what the hell I’m doing but each night my babies go up to bed safe and loved beyond measure. At the end of the day I guess that’s all that matters.
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