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Work Mum//Home Mum {toddler chronicles}

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Firsts, in all aspects of life, they can be exhilarating, overwhelming, put a fear in your bones like you've never known, spark incomparable excitement. For a toddler I can only imagine what the "firsts" they experience feel like. As adults we forget most milestone firsts. I can't remember my first step, first word, first day at Kindergarten. To evoke some sort of a 3rd hand memory I read my mothers diaries or ask dad, my Aunty or my brother. When I was little mum had to return to work and put me in care down the road with a lady called Pam. Heaven knows how I've remembered her name, perhaps it was my experiences there that seared it onto my brain. Whenever mum dropped me off the tears would start and I'd stand in the corner at the front door and cry, full of dread, full of pain tears. I remember standing in the corner, I remember crying. It was, traumatic for me at the time - consequently it's one of my earliest memories. When mum picked me up it was like the heavens opened. One day she took me to the shops straight after and I recall swinging my legs in the trolley and picking a giant Care Bears colouring book to take home with me. Mum pulled me out of Pam's care pretty soon after putting me in. One day she came to pick me up and a whole bunch of us were sitting in Pam's car out the front, climbing all over the seats. The keys were in the transmission.

The other day was Orlando's first full day of childcare. I had to start work at 7 and because I'm a stickler for being on time I get there at 0630. So I asked Hamish to take Orlando to childcare or he would have been up at 0545, which isn't kind - to anyone, baby or not. Hamish drove him in and dropped him off without incident. I didn't hear a peep from the centre all day, but I could see it from the window at work. Don't you go thinking I didn't want to knick down and see if he was alright the whole time I was there. Half an hour before I was due to finish, I popped down to see how he was. He'd just fallen asleep - his first nap for the day. The girls told me he'd fought sleep all day, despite displaying clear signs of being tired. So I left him and went back to work instead of taking him with me to say hello to my co-workers. When I went back 45 minutes later he was awake, I scooped him into my arms as soon as I walked into the room and he rested his head on my shoulder. Instant relief for he and I. He wasn't upset or crying but he was so, so tired. I bundled him into the car and we started driving home. Around half way the crying started, sad, exhausted crying. We arrived home and I took him out of the car and brought him inside where there were more tears, kicking. It didn't stop.

I'm not saying this to be smug but Orlando doesn't keep crying. He may fuss, he may have a cry if he's hungry or tired or bumped his head. But he doesn't cry for prolonged periods of time. The crying after childcare went for over 45 minutes - I was worried. At one stage I thought "maybe I can google how to stop a baby crying" then I told myself to pull it together. I called Hamish and asked him to come home straight away because I just didn't know what to do. I held him, rocked him, patted him, tried to give him water, mango, hell I'm not going to lie I even tried a bite of Frosty Fruit - to no avail. Nothing worked. I had the TV on Play School to try and distract him but that didn't work. Then I pulled out the Foxtel remote. Orlando loves remotes, he has a healthy collection of old ones in the playroom but nothing beats The Real Deal. He reached for it, the sobbing started to slow down. For half an hour I let him play with the remote, we checked the fans in the house, we checked the light switches, we pressed the buttons on the remote to make words appear on the screen. It worked. I have never been so relieved.

When Hamish came home Orlando was already sitting up in his highchair, eating strawberries and mini pork meatballs. He was back to his happy, giggling self. Going to bed was a smooth transition and he slept beautifully. Crisis averted.

Prior to picking Orlando up that day I'd been talking with someone at work about returning to the workforce after having a baby. They thought it was imperative to "keep your finger on the pules" so to speak, to make sure you don't lose skills, become stale. Returning to work in this day and age was (in their opinion) not only valuable for your personal growth but imperative for keeping yourself valuable in the workforce - basically making sure you don't end up finding it hard to gain employment. They also said "you never know what's around the corner". I couldn't agree more with this especially after seeing what mum and dad went through with mum's cancer (financially). There is always the other side of the coin though.

A part of me longs to be at home all the time. To be able to draw chalk pictures on the driveway with Orlando all day long, to always have a delicious dinner prepared - to not miss things, little things, big things. Alas, it's not meant to be. For myself I can't lose skills at work, I have long service leave soon too, leaving just isn't an option. Plus I really do cherish the adult contact, that beautiful drive home where I can listen to whatever I want or be in silence. Bliss. With this two sided coin in mind though it has me thinking, can a mother really "have it all" or are we always destined to have an area of our lives lacking? Be it our relationship, friendships, work…. children. Does there always have to be a sacrifice? I'd like to think that there never, ever has to be a sacrifice but I know I make them every day. Most of the time it's a happy, not even noticed sacrifice. Sometimes it's one where it's not so amicable. 

How do you find a work/life balance? Did you find putting your baby in childcare difficult, any tips for those long days? If you're a stay at home mum what do you miss about working? Is the grass always greener on the other side?

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