I was invited along to an event recently, which was a first birthday bash and a celebration of women in business. The day was about giving likeminded ladies a chance to come together, to eat wonderful food, to network and to listen to a panel of business women talk about how they’ve managed and made it in a sometimes male dominated world. Sounds pretty good, right? Hugely inspiring yes? On paper, yes. The problem was that I didn’t think too much before heading there and when I got there, I panicked. I felt like a total fraud.
I’m into week two of the Easter Holidays and boy, am I finding it a little on the difficult side. See, the kids nursery stops for the holidays so that’s me out of my lovely day and a half that I have to myself and I’m not afraid to admit that I’ve found it really tough. That day and a half is when I ‘get shit done’. I write, I edit, I surf the net, I waste time on social media (obvs) I do admin, house-min and most importantly get the chance to sit in a coffee shop uninterrupted. It’s much needed time away from my sidekick, as much as I love her. She’s full speed my daughter, a bruiser in a princess dress, a Duracell bunny, she’s all go and no, I wouldn’t have her any other way, but as we sidled into week two of the break, because she’s with me with 24/7, I’ve been reminded how incredibly moany, whiney, and three year old-esque she is. My patience has worn thin. I’ve uttered more empty threats in the last few days than I have in the last year. The only thing that has been giving me comfort is the amount of other parents I’ve seen muttering and shouting at their own children to, ‘WILL YOU JUST LISTEN!’. Thank god it’s not just me.
My husband and I had a face-draining, heart stopping, stomach churning moment with the kid recently. One that has imprinted a thought to the forefront of my mind. A thought that seems so obvious given that I am now a mother and together we are parents, but sometimes we forget this one thing, this one simple thing and that is, ‘responsibility‘. Our responsibility towards our child. This isn’t a dramatic story (I realise that I may have built it up slightly) but the situation was enough to make me stop and take stock, and sometimes as a parent a reminder is needed.