The other week, I was with my husband’s family when one of my in-laws turned to me at the dinner table and said ‘so, still loving mothermood?’. Note, there was not an inch of sarcasm to her tone. She was deadly serious. She wanted an answer. My initial response was two-fold: 1) puzzlement – when had I ever given anyone the idea that I was loving motherhood? had I got drunk and said it? and 2) – holy shit, no. I do it. I do my best at it. I totally, honestly love my kids but do as to loving the actual job of being a full-time mum? Not so much. Of course, I didn’t say any of this. But neither could I lie. So instead, I did what any grown-up woman would do and faked my own death. It was easier than confessing to all of the above and I figured it would cause less of a commotion at the dinner table.
Fake death gags aside, am I the only one who doesn’t find it the best job in the world? Am I missing out on something? I mean the pay sucks. The hours are relentless. The holidays non-existent and only this morning my ’employers’ decided to grab my attention by doing a poo in the shower, before going on to crap all over the carpet while I cleared the first mess up. And just in case that lacked impact, my son then gagged so violently over the smell, he vomited over himself. I don’t remember my last boss doing that. Although of course there was that incident at the Christmas party…December 2007, what a night that was….
So anyway, no, as hard as I try to run with the whole stay at home mum thing, I just can’t convince myself that it’s the career for me. I know that for some women it is and while I often struggle to click with them and the stuff they talk about, I’m not dissing the gratification they get from bringing up their kids. In fact I’m pretty freaking jealous. As someone who doesn’t deal too well with the same-old, I wish I could take more pleasure in the day to day stuff. But I can’t. The fact is, I find it boring. There, I’ve said it. I’m bored. No fake death today. I am bored. Singing The Wheels On The Bus 47 times a day? Boring. Sitting at a soft play session while another mum takes 40 minutes to tell me about the time her son trapped his finger? Boring. CBeebies? A Godsend but honestly? When I do finally have my Falling Down moment and smash the shit out of the telly, it’ll be the relentless sound of Upsy Daisy screeching down that bloody trumpet of hers that will push me over the edge. How do I feel today, how do I FEEL TODAY? Sweet Jesus Tweenies, don’t get me started.