Recently my Biggest, Little One has questioned me about where I work. See I don’t have a job.
I spend my days, nights and weekends being a Mummy.
When I ask him where he thinks I work, he can never really give me an answer. Aside from once telling me I do ‘fabulous’ work on my computer (Glad you think so son!) he doesn’t know. I’m just always there, close by in case he needs me. It’s not my job – it’s my life!
I know there are lots who think I’ve got it pretty easy. That’s ok. Your entitled to your opinion.
I understand from the outside, looking in, I have probably put on a pretty good show but there are no kid free holidays, no sick days and definitely no adult only lunches here! Now don’t get me wrong, the world isn’t gonna fall apart if I don’t fold the washing or the dinner isn’t on the table at 5pm. My job my not seem all that important to you, but if I didn’t do it – it would matter. There would be no clean clothes. No food on the table and lots and lots of dirt.
See I’m not just a Mum. I’m so many other things…
I’m a chef. If there is food on the table I’ve cooked it. If it’s take-away I’ve ordered it and if we eat out I’ve planned it.
I’m a cleaner. The bleach in the toilet, I put it there. The dust on the side board (yip it’s gone have a look!) I dusted it. The food splattered floor, you guessed it – I washed it.
I’m a driver. I do the school run regardless how many winks I’ve had. I’m pretty sure as the years go on and the floor needs less washing I’m gonna be doing more driving. There’ll be afterschool clubs, football and swimming.
I’m a personal assistant and book keeper. I remember the doctors appointments and when the car needs taxed. I remember when the electric bill needs paid or the school is shut for mid term.
I’m a peace keeper. When everyone is fighting over who’s go it is now I’m there. Maybe I’d be useful in Stormont.
I’m a personal shopper. I’m not going to further this point in case my husband reads this and decides to look at the joint account.
I’m a nurse. I’m there whether it’s a cut knee or a raging temperature.
Some days I feel like a Maid. There is constant badgering for juice or apples that will be half eaten and strewn away in favour of the next request.
See I’m ok with being all these things.
And if you think I’m just a Mum, I’m ok with that too. It’s always been the plan. I never wanted someone else to wipe their tears, see their first steps or hear their first words. See I didn’t decide to be a Stay at Home Mummy for you. The only people who’s opinions I care about are that of my kids. Sure, they probably think I shout too much and hate when I make them eat their carrots but I’m there. Always their Mummy. I hope when they are older they remember I was always there. That I made it to the school plays and the sports days. It was me, running for the sick bucket when they didn’t feel well and I was the one to tuck them in and kiss them good night.
I understand that for some, staying at home isn’t an option. I understand that for some, staying at home won’t fulfil you and I don’t think any less of you for your choice. So please don’t think less of me for mine.