Work

Dooce

Have a look at her masthead, why don’t you?

Also, have a look at Woolamaloo

I like my job and I would like to hang on to it.

However, today, as I sat in a meeting where we considered the best conduct of meetings (what Mr. Waffle calls a meta meeting), I lost a
tiny bit of my enthusiasm. On the plus side we don’t have to do meta-training which is a regular part of Mr. Waffle’s job. That’s training on how to apply for training.

I appear to have secured gainful employment. I will be starting at the end of the month. I may even like the job.  I have already begun to spend my first month’s salary.  You may congratulate me.

So this will be a big change for me and my girl.  Princess will be spending her days in the creche and I will be rejoining the world of adults.  To be honest, we’re both a bit apprehensive. Well, she would be, I’m sure, if she had the remotest idea what was coming.

The past year has been hard.  I have found it more difficult than I ever imagined it could be to be home alone with a small child.  Even the most perfect small child in the world.  And of course the stream of rejection letters landing on the doormat hasn’t helped my mood either.

I must pay tribute to my loving husband who never once reproached me for my inability to find a job.  Who never objected to paying all the shoe bills. Who never ever in all the time I was off work asked “what do you do with yourself all day?”.  Who never said “it’s so easy for you at home, not having to work”. ( I don’t think that he ever thought that either and let’s give some credit to my mother-in-law here, the woman who said “it’s much easier for him going out to work than for you staying at home, he’s very lucky, work is sociable, you know” – he must have absorbed right-on vibes at home).  And he always thought I was brilliant and potential employers were stupid.  Except obviously, the people who’ve taken me on. And he’s going to take me out to dinner on Friday night to celebrate.

Though I am delighted to be going back to work, it’s not the unmitigated delight it would have been, if I were not a mother.  I am worried about my baby.  Worried that she will be unhappy. Worried that she will miss me.  Worried that she won’t understand what’s going on.  Worried that I will miss an important part of her life that I should perhaps be there for.  But I am also hopeful that she will understand or at least feel how much happier I am (though of course this does depend on the job being as entertaining as I hope it will be, my friend D has pointed out to me that it’s not all coffee breaks, which is a disappointment).
I realise that, objectively,on the scale of things which people have to deal with, my life was more or less perfect, but for me it was difficult at times.  Looking after my little girl is getting easier now and she has a personality and she is fun and I love her dearly, but, just between you and me, she’s still not the great conversationalist I think that she will be some day.  I miss adult conversation.   There were days when the only adult conversation I had was with my husband before and after his day at work.   Sometimes the days would stretch out in front of me and I would think “what the hell am I going to do?”  We have visited every museum and playground in the greater Brussels area several times. We have shopped.  We have set up camp in the Glam Potter’s house and F’s house on alternate days (my only friends who do not work full time). But you can’t see someone 4 times a week. Really, you can’t.  Often I was tempted, but you can’t.  Maybe it would have been easier in Ireland with our families around, I don’t know. Maybe it’s easier for other people, but, you know, I doubt it. Before I was at home full-time, I used to think that non-working mothers had copped out of the world of work.  That they couldn’t hack it and had gone for the easy option. Obviously, I would never have said that in a million years, but I thought it.  Now, I know, I was wrong. I am going back to work, I’ve gone for the easier option.   Full-time mothers, I salute you.

My friend Helen has said much the same thing Waffle. It’s the lack of adult conversation that gets you. You feel you are slowly losing brain cells one by one – no matter how much you adore/love being with your child.
As I am childless I can’t imagine that feeling yet…
Have a salutation sweetie on me. 1 Sweetie(s) given

on 10 November 2004 at 11:55
(
Comment Modified) Well done waffle. And just think of all the news you and the Princess will have to share with each other in the evenings.
She’ll love using her imperious tones and high IQ on her subjects in the creche ….