Reclaiming the weekend.

 

photo by herval via PhotoRee

Working for yourself from home can be intense, particularly hour-wise!  I blog (obviously) and love it but I also work freelance (and really love that too!), and I’m a Mum and wife and I REALLY love that as well! I also sincerely believe that whoever decided 24hr was an adequate number of hours for one day wasn’t a working parent – I mean what a silly number!

Basically there just aren’t enough hours in the day. Over time my working week, (a typical day starting at 5am as I’m a natural early riser, and ending at approximately 11am),was starting to slip into the weekend. Then it took over. We still did family stuff and the kids get plenty of quality time in and out of the house, but I work in snatches around the clock, especially over the summer and then it’s heads down for an evening’s work. My saviour has been that fact that Taylor goes to his Grandma one day a week and the same day Kieran is either at school or a playscheme. A full day of concentrated work!

This summer though I have decided that things have to change. As much as I love my work, it’s not my life and I have decided to reclaim my weekend. Yes, no full-on Saturday and Sunday working, no weekend to-do lists.

And what a difference!!

I find myself better organised (as much as you can be with kids at home!) and my working week more productive because I know that when the laptop goes off on Friday night, that is it. Don’t get me wrong, I still need my twitter fix and enjoy a bit of browsing etc but that’s where it stops.

I’ve had to re-teach myself about the work/life balance and working to live, not living to work. I’m much happier as a result. Since reclaiming weekends and my “me” time I’ve realised how much I’ve missed. I’ve started reading for pleasure again, walking, and spending more time exploring in the kitchen (cookery not just eating!). I am also very pleased to find that after years of only catching snatches, I seem to have missed absolutely nothing from soapland!

Do you find yourself pushing yourself harder than you should? Do you know what your working cut-off time is or do you plough on regardless of the fact that you’ve had no “me” time? It’s never easy getting the balance right is it?

 

 

Don’t rain on my (baby) parade! – the sequel

I’m very pleased to have the second guest-post, or rather the sequel for you, to the first post Don’t Rain On My (Baby) Parade by the lovelies at Mummy Central (who can also be found on Twitter). A brilliant post! Have you ever been made to feel awkward or “freakish” in this way? Enjoy and if you get a moment, do leave them a comment and tell them what you think!

Nicki

photo by m kasahara via PhotoRee

Don’t rain on my (baby) parade! – the sequel

I was sad and just a little frustrated at a recent blog post I read entitled Please don’t bring your baby to work

The gist of it was that, in an office atmosphere, showing off your newborn to colleagues while on maternity leave is inappropriate and shouldn’t happen.

The writer said: “I just couldn’t inflict it on them, particularly the lady I knew who was desperate to conceive but had been trying unsuccessfully for years and the man who’d had an acrimonious split from his wife who was denying him access to his kids”.

It’s as if you’re saying ‘look at me, I’ve reproduced, aren’t I clever!’, how insensitive can you get?

Well it would seem I’m very insensitive.

Because I fail to see why having a baby is becoming the one happy occasion in life which has to be suppressed at all costs.

Why do those who don’t have children, but claim to be happy with their choice, have to rain on everyone else’s baby parade?

And now it seems even the ones who do reproduce are being shamed into playing it down.

Mother’s are actually nodding in agreement and insisting they wouldn’t be so silly as to even mention their children in front of colleagues.

If we all need to be super sensitive towards those who can’t have kids, or who are fighting over their offspring in their divorce, how do you think they’re going to feel sitting across the office from a pregnant lady for eight months?

Should we conceal the pregnant workers behind a screen? How far do we go?

It’s called the circle of life. It happens in front of you, whether you like it or not.

Before we had our two sons, my husband and I suffered two miscarriages. And faced the possibility something was wrong and we’d never be parents.

I remember the fear, the sadness… and the poor pregnant girl in the office who felt she had to hide her happy news from me, in case she ruined my life.

Even in my misery, I didn’t see why she had to conceal her delight, and when I found out, I congratulated her on her happy condition.

Yes, there are levels of sensitivity and I’m sure pushing a baby into my arms at that time in my distress might have been a step too far.

But that’s the thing about baby visits

Mothers generally wait for people to come and coo over the baby, they read others’ reactions to find out who wants to see the child and who doesn’t.

They don’t march from desk to desk, pulling out photographs of their placenta and insisting everyone sniffs the infant’s nappy to judge whether he needs a change.

My original post on this topic, also here on Curly & Candid was called Don’t rain on my (baby) parade!

The general theme was how women are made to feel like idiots, nutters, baby-obsessed freaks even, for showing off their newborn. Or even referring to motherhood in general conversation.

I was inspired to write about this by friends and colleagues who spent a good amount of time banging on about their precious dogs, their wedding plans, their diets and what they’d eaten that day.

But the mere mention of how your child was settling in at nursery prompted a series of knowing looks and eye-rolling.

I was supportive, I oohed and aaaahed over the perfect Jimmy Choo wedding shoes, I joined discussions on which biscuit had the most calories. I’d even nod and coo over pictures of their pug, while they chose to ignore pictures of my two sons.

(I kid you not, one conversation actually revolved around how a colleague’s precious dog would eat, then take a sh** straight afterwards).

Does the soon-to-be-married woman in an office come under criticism that she might upset her spinster colleague?

Or the girls loudly comparing calories. Do they have to show concern for the desperately thin worker who might be on the verge of an eating disorder?

No – and nobody would expect them to.

We live our lives, celebrating our choices and not meaning to hurt others.

So why do mothers get put under the microscope? Why are our actions branded insensitive, or over-the-top – even when they’re not?

Office colleagues all over the country take fag breaks, spend time on Facebook, on Twitter, on personal calls, without a hint of complaint from others.

But perish the thought a mother and baby might visit and cause a bit of a distraction for half an hour.

In the end, after complaints about just that, new mums where I used to work began bringing their babies into the staff canteen.

Once word got round they were in the building, colleagues could decide whether they had time to pop in for five minutes, to say hello.

What’s wrong with that? Nothing.

OK, so we all know a mum who goes on a bit too much about her little ones, who insists that women aren’t complete unless they experience motherhood.

But why can’t we ignore her? The baby bores don’t have to spoil it for the rest of us.

We don’t allow bridezillas to put us off weddings.

The post which started all of this – the one warning new mums not to take their babies into an office – featured a picture of a frazzled woman sitting at her desk, child on her lap.

As if that would happen – ever.

We’re not talking about running a department, while simultaneously breastfeeding an infant, here.

We’re talking about visiting colleagues who are genuinely interested in seeing what our bump turned into.

And as long as there is an interested audience, I say show that baby off – with pride.