Hats

The main reason that I haven't blogged for over 6 months, is that I have been stretched to the max, busy busy busy. Many days I have felt like a juggler, so many balls in the air - so many things to remember to do, people to call, things to get.  It can be draining! And this busy-ness, the hamster wheel of the to do list, is the theme of this blog.

As of almost exactly a year ago, I became self-employed. In theory, I work about 15 hours a week. Some weeks that is about right, others it's definitely far too low an estimate. And for the most part, this work takes place at home. Alongside this I have the usual housewife stuff to manage: laundry, planning, buying and preparing food, cleaning etc. Then the Mum stuff is there too of course: school runs, lunch boxes, homework, playdates...  The '... ' is there because that list is kind of endless. You don't get to the end of a day and clock off being a Mum!

Multitasking becomes the norm: I send work emails and texts while standing at the school gates, or I catch up on work while I should just be relaxing and watching tv in the evening, or I supervise homework while I am cooking dinner, keeping an eye on my work Facebook account and preparing lunch boxes. 

Many parents, Mums especially, deal with this all the time, every day. Multi-tasking is said to be something females are good at, but there is research out there, which suggests that multitasking endlessly is not remotely efficient and can end up damaging your mental health and causing huge stress. One of the reasons this applies especially to Mums is that many of their tasks are related to or witnessed by others, like the housework. I can see this - if I choose not to complete a work task, I can make allowances. If I don't get the laundry done, there will eventually be naked children and a cross husband.

This isn't meant to be a list of my busy-ness and a 'woe is me' post. But increasingly, it has become clear to me that I am coping, but not thriving, with all of this. I wouldn't say my mental health is suffering, but I can see that there has to be an easier way to get everything done. The biggest pressure comes from the fear that sets in when I worry that I have forgotten something. Perhaps I seem organised as I always have a list on me, but it is constantly being added to, not in a planned way, but as things occur to me, in a mild panic. I get home from dropping the kids to school, stand in the hall and know I have about 25 things to do. How do I decide what happens first? I end up stopping and starting each task and things take longer than they need to, which only adds to the sense of rush and pressure.  It all gets done, but at what cost?

The cost is generally grumpiness and tiredness - most of which is displayed as snappy and impatient retorts to the kids. They are uncomplaining recipients of the downside of all this juggling and I can see that I am missing opportunities to just hang out with them. It's going by so fast - I now live with an 8 year old and a 6 year old - when did that happen? I want them to look back and remember me as fun and approachable, not busy and stressed.

New year, time for a change. I didn't set out to make a big New Year's resolution about this. It has just been dawning on me that I wasn't organised at all in the lead up to Christmas, and it took me about 6 weeks from the end of August to get my head around my boys' schedule once they were back at school. A chat with my Mum on Saturday set a big alarm off in my head about how I am managing and, thankfully, showed me a clear path to fixing this.

I should at this point say that my Mum is amazing! She has developed a great teaching about the busy-ness of life and how to make it all work. It's really all about hats. Yes, hats.

How many hats do you wear? I worked out that I wear 12.  I am a Mum, wife, Slimming World Consultant, friend, church member, housewife, person, daughter, sister, childminder etc, all the way to 12. Incidentally, if you have more than 12 hats, it might be time to rethink things as that's not really sustainable in terms of the burden of time and responsibility required of one person. 

The next step was a pie chart to help me work out what chunk of my time needs to go to each hat. And then I took time to plan out my week, allocating the time I need to each hat over the week. 

This might sound really over the top and silly. And as I am posting it here, it is a very diluted version of the full teaching as my Mum gives it, or even of the conversation we had. But, the main thing is that I have, genuinely, seen an immediate effect. Yesterday, I allocated from 3-5 to spend getting housey stuff ready for the whole back to school rush this morning. At 2:45 Matthew wanted some attention from me. Because I knew I had the time booked, instead of telling him I was busy and had loads to do, I said: 'We can do something together for 15 minutes, what do you want to do?' All he wanted was a chat! He showed me some of what he has made on his Christmas present - it's a kind of computer to teach kids how to do coding and programming - and chatted away. I understood about 3 out of every 10 words, but he was delighted with the attention. And, sadly, it highlighted that I have not been doing this, I have been missing opportunities to spend time with this boy, who will be a teenager before I know it and not looking for time with me in the same way.

This morning I got back from the school run and stood in the hall and had a plan ready to enact. I knew I had 2 hours to really attack the housework. I did so with purpose, gusto and loud music. What motivated me hugely is knowing that at 11, I would head out for me time - and I did. I could have done more housework, cause when is that ever actually finished? But I had planned to have time for me, the person, not the Mum, the consultant, the housewife, the anything, but just Sarah. I had a great walk, came home and had lunch, read and felt fantastic. This afternoon is Mum time and tomorrow is mostly Consultant time. And on Sunday I will need to make a new plan to be who I need to be at the right time throughout next week.

It's early days and this might not last. But so far, I am inspired! My list of jobs didn't get any smaller, but my turmoil shrank considerably and I am excited to start 2015 with a clearer sense of all my tasks and responsibilities. And I've always liked hats - maybe I could wear different one for each role? Or I might just stick with the one that my amazing friend Helen gave me. I have been told it looks a bit Downton on me. You know, maybe that's the actual solution: get servants.

Flat 7Up and a Duvet on the Couch

Remember that feeling of being sick as a child? I am not aware that I was a particularly sickly kid, but I have very strong memories of being unwell and being looked after, in particular by my Mum.  Even though these are memories of sickness, they are very happy memories as well, as I just remember being warm, snuggled and looked after with care and love. 

One of the best things was being allowed to go into my parents' bed for part of the day. No idea why, but this really felt like a big deal and was reserved for occasions of sickness. I remember feeling very important and special in what seemed like an enormous bed. The other really great thing was a duvet on the couch.  If you were lucky, a double duvet folded over, so you were lying both on and under it. Mmmmmm... the sense of comfort from that should be bottled! 

And I would extend that sense of comfort into the deeply uncomfortable arena of throwing up. It's horrible - the way it takes over your body and, just, yuck.  But when your Mum is rubbing your back and murmuring soothing phrases, you know you will be ok.  I had a French teacher who used to encourage us as we spoke French in exactly the same tone my Mum used when we were being sick.  I always felt a bit nauseous in his classroom...

Then there is the paraphernalia: medicines, dry crackers or biscuits and of course flat 7Up. Nobody ever recovered properly from anything without flat 7Up. And books that you had already read before so you didn't have to think too much. And tv: Anne of Green Gables or Mary Poppins (but not too loud for the singing).

I am of course not talking about hospital sickness here, which is a whole other scenario. But the childhood flus and bugs, which prevented you from going to school and presumably prevented your Mum from doing much of anything, although she was gracious enough not to let on. As a child, I almost revelled in the whole experience - you were allowed to ask for almost anything to eat, drink or watch and the chances of being told no were severely reduced. 

My husband has a very different experience of childhood sickness.  Not that my mum allowed me to be a hypochondriac, but his mum was just not having any of it.  Unless there were broken limbs or blood coming out of his ears, he was going to school...  Consequently, he is rubbish at being unwell himself.  Following surgery, I looked after him while he recuperated and he was totally uninitiated in the art of the couch duvet. There is a knack to the placement of the pillows, the proximity to the coffee table has to be judged carefully and there is of course the all important 'socks or no socks' debate.  All of this was foreign territory to him and I was happy to educate him...

Now it is my turn to be the Mum who looks after sick kids.  Today, my younger son has a nasty tummy bug. Although of course my heart breaks for him, a tiny part of me loves suddenly being needed so much again.  It goes so fast and we are so proud of every milestone.  But each of those means more independence and less direct interaction with me! But today, even though his little woebegone pale face was very tragic indeed, I was secretly delighted at all the extra cuddles I was getting. And, yes, I now get to hold the sick bucket and make the soothing noises.  It is strangely un-gross - it just goes with the territory and I don't mind it at all.

Of course this is all very well for me.  I don't work regular hours outside the home and am in charge of my own schedule. In the recent times I worked in office jobs, I was very fortunate that both kids were relatively healthy, apart from a dose of chicken pox. But today, all I had to worry about was getting the oldest guy a lift to and from football camp.  No drama, no stress really.

How different for working Mums.  And I say Mums here rather than parents.  I think there is a real urge within a very young child for Mummy when they are sick.  With the greatest respect to all Dads everywhere, Mummies are just better at sorting out the duvet on the couch. But when the same Mummy is due in 5 meetings that day, it's a different story. It's a monumental juggling act, loaded with guilt on all sides.  Whatever she does on a day her child is sick, she will be left feeling that she is letting someone down. 

A friend had a sick child just this week, on the day she was due to have an important job assessment talk with a manager. It was just so typical that this was the day there was a sick child in the house. Next thing, the manager sent a mail: his Mum had died and he was cancelling. My friend was delighted! And then horrified at her reaction!  And then just relieved and probably a bit guilty - there always has to be guilt...

My heart goes out to working Mums as they juggle so much to begin with - housework, laundry, shopping, cooking, childcare and the job itself. Adding a sick kid to the mix is just too much and can send the whole dynamic out of whack for the family. The pressure is enormous and sometimes simply having an understanding employer will make the difference.  That is, of course, not a given. Laws about time off for sick kids vary tremendously and it can be a minefield to have to negotiate your rights. As I understand it, in the States, some parents risk job loss or the docking of pay if they have to mind sick kids. Grandparents and aunties can help out, but only if they are around to begin with and even then only if the child is well enough to have anyone but Mummy.

This is perhaps one area where equality is a bit of a flawed concept.  It's great that woman can and do work of course, but kids need their Mummies when they are sick and perhaps employers should allow for this.  But then you can see where employers would avoid employing women of a certain age (where they are not already doing so), and the whole thing gets a bit murky. 

There is no obvious solution here - each family just muddles through and keeps their kids as healthy as possible. Having recently seen a family close to me go through two weeks of stress around this issue, I wish I could be a fairy godmother and swoop in to help with this kind of situation. Maybe that's what all families need! 

Meanwhile, I need to go and wake my poorly bunny and hope the sleep has done him well. Think it's time for Toy Story, watched from the vantage point of a duvet nest on the couch - prepared by an expert!  Now where did I leave that 7Up?

Not Taboo, But Still Unspoken

I woke up this morning feeling weird and edgy and then I remembered my dream. In it, I had a miscarriage. Even though it was non sequential and incoherent, as dreams are, I knew in the dream that this was the fourth one and I was devastated.  And I woke up feeling unsettled and off. 

Dreams are really strange. I am not pregnant and I haven't had a miscarriage for 8 years. So it's hard to know how the combination of conversations I had yesterday and the pasta I had for dinner conspired to conjure up up these images.

Apparently 1 in 5 pregnancies end in miscarriage, of which there are several different kinds.  Not 1 in 5 women ever have a  miscarriage, but 20% of all pregnancies. That's a very high proportion and indicates how many people are affected by this. Yet it is strangely unspoken about - it's not something people tend to reveal about themselves on a night out. I don't think this is because it's taboo, rather that it's a very personal thing for everyone. Depending on what stage you were at in the pregnancy, whether you already have kids or not, how both people in the couple respond to this and a host of other factors, your experience will be very individual. People's responses to such a loss are deeply personal also and are hard to share with others, as you are mourning the loss of potential, which is unquantifiable in many ways. 

It was very striking one evening at book club, to go round the table and realise that every single woman there, had had at least 1 miscarriage. There were about 7 of the wider membership that had turned up that particular month, but each of us had a completely different story. That's when the statistic '1 in 5' was shown to be such a high one - that it had affected every single person in a relatively random group of women one Thursday night in Wicklow town.

Before we ever had any kids, we went through 3 miscarriages. The very first one was really early, like about 6 and a half weeks into the pregnancy. If I hadn't suspected and taken a pregnancy test, I possibly wouldn't even have realised and would have just assumed I was quite late.  In fact, one of the midwives said this to me and said that early pregnancy tests are great in many ways, but do cause a great deal of heartache that would otherwise have passed you by.

The next miscarriage was almost exactly a year later and was a really difficult experience.  I was almost 11 weeks pregnant and the school I was working in was 2 days away from being inspected by Ofsted when I realised I was bleeding. Cue the two most awful days. Scans showed that there was no heartbeat, but the doctors insisted on various surgery-avoidance procedures that were really awful.  It was our first experience of being in a hospital system where staff were quite poor at communicating what was going on, and stuff was just done or medication just given, without explanation, until Andrew demanded to be told what was happening. Eventually, I ended up in surgery.

That was a very hard time as one of my closest friends had just had her first baby.  I had found out I was pregnant on the day she gave birth and it all just felt so right and we were so happy!  It was very difficult to come back from this, and I was very angry and upset for a long time. It changed me, it changed our marriage, thankfully by bringing us closer together in the end,  and it changed, deepened and strengthened my faith. 

Two years later, I found out I was pregnant again and was delighted to feel sick and nauseous for a few weeks. Until I stopped feeling sick and nauseous...  I knew then and wasn't at all surprised when the early scan we were allowed due to our history did not show a heartbeat. The one they made us come back for 2 weeks later confirmed this, and I was admitted for surgery in Holles Street. In those 2 in between weeks, our house had flooded due to incompetent plumbers and I spent the subsequent weeks post surgery on the couch as a humidifier drummed next to me and various workmen painted and replastered. Not a great recuperation!

And only then, after 3 miscarriages, would 'they' look at us and do any investigation as to the cause of this recurrence. 'They' being the medical profession, who are acting from the 1 in 5 statistic. At the time,  after the second miscarriage, it is so hard to accept that they don't consider you have been through enough to investigate. There you are, devastated, and told 'we only take blood tests etc after 3.' I almost felt like that was a sentence and a small part of me was relieved after the third one was over, that at least now they had to look into this.

But, several blood tests later, we proved to be perfectly healthy and there was no reason to think the next pregnancy wouldn't be fine.  Although this was good news, I almost wanted there to be a problem.  They would then present us with a super straightforward medical solution, just like that, and we could go forward with certainty and confidence.  Well, that's not how things go in real life!

I write this while ignoring the sounds from upstairs that tell me one of the kids is about to come down roaring in pain any minute now. After the 3 miscarriages, I had 2 subsequent pregnancies, both of which were fine and we have 2 healthy, bouncy boys. Although our experiences were difficult, they are nothing, NOTHING, compared to what some couples go through, in terms of ectopic pregnancies, the whole ivf route with its attendant financial and hormonal pressures or indeed the soul-destroying bureaucracy of adoption. Not to mention losing a baby much later in pregnancy or having a baby die shortly after birth. And I have also always thought that in many ways it must be harder to suffer a miscarriage when you already have kids.  Although we were desperately sad that we might never have a family; at least we were at liberty to console each other, to head off for long weekends and to take time out from normal life as needed.  If you already have kids, that's not an option and I am full of admiration for couples who stay strong in these situations.

I always worry when I hear new couples talk blithely about their plans to start a family after they have travelled and had glittering careers etc. I think the phrase 'planning a family' is in fact extremely unhelpful as it utterly fails to prepare people for the fairly high chance that this might not just happen cause they want it to at a certain time. I am not suggesting people should be worried and tense around this whole issue, but at least be aware that children are a blessing.  At risk of sounding too cheesy for words, I mean by this that each child really is a miracle, given all that has to happen before they are safely delivered. I am immensely grateful for my two miracles and will now go and check which one of them has injured the other...

Blogging Break

Someone said to me on Friday that they enjoyed my blog and when was I going to write again?  Quite shocked to realise my last entry was in November.... how did that happen? As in, how did 7 months zoom by without me realising? 

One of the reasons is that I started up a mini company / initiative / thing called IT Confidence.  My Dad got an iPhone and I was helping him make the most of it, when he suggested that was something I could help others with, and potentially charge for. And not just iPhones, but laptops, iPads, kindles, all manner of devices.  

It made sense, so I decided to go ahead and have had quite a few clients since then.  They have had me install and teach Skype, or look at using RTE Player, help them be secure on Facebook, or just be more confident in using their technology.  It has been very enjoyable for the most part and I hope it will grow.

It is almost exactly a year since I finished up my old job as an Admin/PA.  Although I really enjoyed the work, I can honestly say that I really haven't missed the job at all.  The relief of not having to be an employee and a mother and a house wife all in the same day! The difference in being able to plan out my own week without having to jump through childcare hoops as meetings occurred outside my normal working hours! 

An article I read at the weekend was commenting that this generation of young women knows too much about being a working Mum.  Previous generations of women were breaking new ground and went for it, discovering the issues along the way. Then the whole concept of 'having it all' began to be thrashed out, written about and debated. The writer of this piece quoted recent films like What To Expect When Your Expecting and Friends With Kids, both of which I happen to have seen recently.  She reckons that the whole issue is so over discussed, over analysed and over filmed that women her age are now often convinced that they can't have it all and in many cases delay having kids or decide not to instead of attempting to juggle career and kids, as the myth that they can be a successful career woman and a good mother has been thoroughly debunked.

Well, the title 'career woman' was not exactly applicable to me; nor did I want it to be. That doesn't mean I didn't want to work outside the home. But there are so many factors to consider: childcare, school holidays, sick kids, husband travelling with his work... the list goes on and on.
Despite racking my brains as I finished work, there didn't seem to be an obvious next job for me, in which I could be at the school gates at the right time, without breaking the speed limit on the N11 every day. One in which I could have some responsibility, but not too much, so that I could just leave work at work and be with the kids 100% when at home. And one in which I could design my own schedule and be in charge of my own time. The reason there wasn't an obvious next job should be apparent... 

Until my Dad said what he did - what a genius!  It ticked all the boxes and I have enjoyed the challenge of teaching people to make the most of their technology.  It has been incredibly varied and interesting; different devices, different abilities, just different people! I can honestly say that I never expected to start my own 'company'.  I use the speech marks, as it seems kind of small to give it that title.  But it is officially registered with the correct authorities as such, so I guess it truly is.

It's a great solution for a Mum of young kids - I feel like I am able to contribute a bit to the finances of Keene Inc and I am also able to exercise my brain with something other than cleaning or the kids.  But, this is all on my own schedule, and that's the key for working Mums, combining everything is tricky.  Media stories like the recent scare over the quality of care in Ireland's creches really don't help, as they only add to the stress and guilt of the whole scenario.

I am not expecting IT confidence to make me a millionaire...  although I think Andrew is hoping to retire soon on that basis. It is just great to have something that can fit into family life without fuss or drama and I don't take for granted what a rare and amazing opportunity this is.

IT Confidence is therefore to blame a bit for the lack of blogging!  But I will make an effort to be a better blogger from now on...

Less of a Person

It's been a while since I have blogged!  Life has been pootling along in a nice rhythm of school runs, football, swimming and housework... Nothing has really been exercising me or getting me riled up enough to blog. And I am not blogging today because I am riled up, but because I am inspired...

 I just got back from a Slimming World meeting in Stillorgan.  The usual stuff was going on: women queuing happily to pay for the week and handing fruit into the basket to be given to the slimmer of the week. 

Then everyone joins the queue for being weighed.  This queue is noticably less chatty and relaxed.  People start stripping off as much as they can get away with before they have to get on the scales, so the side of the queue looks like a jumble sale: boots, scarves, jumpers...  I have seen women take jewellry off.  If your jewellry is going to make a difference to your weigh in, it might be time to de-bling somewhat... Just a thought!

Sighs of relief or grimaces of disappointment follow the weigh in and people find a seat and congratulate or commiserate with each other. Then the awards go out: people get a round of applause and a certificate for reaching certain milestones, like a half stone loss, or 10% of their body weight. This evening Rachael, the group consultant, called forward a lady and told us she had reached her target weight.

A very slim, very nervous lady came to the front.  She looked really slender and pretty and I immediately assumed she had probably lost a couple of stone and used to be a bit plumper.  But no, she had lost over 8 stone. I think it was 8 stone 2.  EIGHT STONE TWO!!!  That is 114 pounds, about 57 kilos. That is just phenomenal! At first I thought she was telling us her current weight, but thought she was a bit tall for that to be her final target.  I was very shocked to realise that was her total loss - amazing!

Yet she had no loose skin or anything like that as she had exercised once she lost enough weight to do so. She told the group that she had gone from a size 22/24 to size 10 and can get both her legs into one of the legs of her old jeans!  She spoke about how different her life was now and how much healthier she has become since she started this in May 2011.

It was really inspirational to see her and there was a palpable sense of awe in the room at her tremendous achievement. It was especially encouraging when she talked about the weeks she had gained weight or the month when she plateaued and was stuck at the same weight. Yet she stuck with it...

So, I am feeling motivated and am continuing to enjoy the Slimming World journey!  I have my own jeans story too: Andrew bought me jeans in America last March, which was brave!  I could barely get them over my knees, never mind do up the button.  Last week I tried them on again and they fit! I was very very pleased! Maybe he should buy me the next size down for continued motivation? Maybe not...

How To Ask Mothers if They Work

I have a new friend - at least we are becoming friends! Her son is new to Matthew's class and her younger son is the same age as Adam. So we have got together a couple of times to chat while the boys play. And while she looks after her twin 6 month old boys. That's right, 4 boys, 2 of which are 6 months old.

It occurred to me after the other day when we had spent the afternoon together, that I don't know what she used to do when she worked, or if she has worked since having any of the kids. That got me thinking about some awkward conversations I have had where I have ended up over-PC-ing. Example:

'Do you work?' 'No, I am at home with the kids' .Gosh, well then you do work! Ha ha' 'Yes, just not for any pay! Ha ha.' 'I meant outside the home, sorry, not that you did nothing!' 'No, I know what you mean...!' You end up feeling like you have asked someone what they used to do, back when they were a person and not a Mum. I end up throwing 'outside the home' into the initial question to show my complete understanding for the fact that they do in fact work very hard. But should I do that? Is that not more patronising in itself?

At school there was a government initiative that got all the girls to think about jobs in science. It had laudable aims and was intended to challenge the perception that science was for boys and jobs linked to scientific third level education were somehow off limits to women. I remember sitting in this random van that was going round all the schools and the woman going round the group asking us all what we wanted to be. I mumbled something along with the rest of them, possibly teacher, but I remember very clearly thinking: 'Mostly, I want to have a family and be a wife and mum and I am not that bothered about having a career.'  The van was definitely not the right place to express this; this was obvious to me even at 14!

And I am more than happy to have got a degree and to have had a brief teaching career followed by 5 completely different jobs. Jobs as opposed to a career. That distinction is quite clear in my mind and I am happy enough with it. When I didn't know if I was ever going to be able to become a Mum, I remember feeling quite frantic about what on earth I was going to do for the next 40 years. Although I have enjoyed most of my jobs, I really did want to have a family - but this wasn't an ambition I felt I could really share with many people, if it could even be considered an amibition and not just opting out. Out of a career, out of feminism maybe, out of everything that has been fought for on women's behalf for a long time.

Cherie Blair recently made a speech that was widely reported in which she was very critical of so-called 'Yummy Mummies' who are betraying all that feminists have fought for by settling for marriage and looking after their kids instead of pursuing a career.

Or am I in fact doing exactly what was fought for: choosing? Just because my choice resembles what most women ended up doing by default in previous generations, when there wasn't a choice, doesn't mean it isn't just that: a choice, MY choice.  And, bigger than that, a choice Andrew and I have made together. Equality is surely about having the choice, not about being forced into doing something you don't want to do, whether that is 'holding the baby' or doing the 9 to 5 thing.
I am now on the receiving end of those questions: 'do you work?', when , according to the tax authorities at least, I don't. I don't want to appear defensive and retort: 'yes, but not for pay and the hours are terrible!' I do have time to myself every day and I am thoroughly enjoying the absence of that endless pressure to succeed at work while having a clean house and food on the table, so I don't want to paint myself as a martyr. But I don't endlessly swan around boutiques and coffee shops either, and I work bloody hard as a Mum and housewife and in supporting Andrew in his career.

Perhaps the best reply is: 'Yes, I am a feminist housewife!' It's all about choice baby!