D-Day

I thought I’d take to mothering like a duck takes to water.
In reality, though, mothering (and parenting) is hard. It’s not natural, or stress free. Someone this week described it to me as your own heart suddenly wandering around outside of your own body – there’s only so much you can do to protect it. There’s only so much you can do for it, because it is not physically part of you. 

I literally never thought this day would come. Ever. 

I always thought I’d be a full time stay at home mummy and housewife.

In reality, though, I am starting work tomorrow morning. New school. New children. New chapter. And that’s ok. It really is. I mean, I have the same new job jitters that everyone has, but I know I will be fine. I haven’t forgotten how to teach. I haven’t forgotten how to speak to other human beings.

In reality, I am looking forward to work, and having my own freedom. I am looking forward to being known as someone other than mummy. I am looking forward to having a different kind of responsibility.

I never thought this day would come.

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Time’s Up!

Last night I barely slept a wink. Not only had my back decided to be cruel to me, but I lay awake thinking about going back to work. Thoughts rushed through my head.

Will she eat? Will she be able to self soothe? Will she just cry the whole time? Will she feel abandoned? Will she miss me? What if she doesn’t miss me? Am I doing the right thing? Is it too soon? Should I have gone back earlier?

And then, I had the thoughts actually relating to my job. I am starting at a new school where I’ve never taught before. I’m working in Year 6, which I haven’t done since my training. What if I can’t do it? What if I’m actually rubbish? What if my new colleagues don’t like me? 


You may sense a recurring theme across much of my blog, as I talk about my faith and my faults. Trusting God completely is something I have struggled with in the past, but I know I must do it once more. This new job is so perfect. I was really blessed to have it given to me. If I trust in Him, I know I can enjoy a peace and joy that nothing earthly can bring. I know I can be hopeful about my future as a working mum.

Of course I look back on the last 8 months and wonder if I could have done more with the time I’ve had with my little girl. Could I have gone to more groups? Probably. Does it matter? Probably not. Another new chapter is unfolding in my life. 

Time’s up.

The saga of the working mum is finally here.

Work Hard, Play Harder

It occurred to me today that I only have around 7 months left until I have to split my identity once more: I have to become mum and teacher. I have to split myself. This saddens me greatly. 


I really don’t want to go back to work. I love being with my gorgeous girl and know that as she becomes more and more developed, I’ll be nearing my comfort zone of books, baking, crafts and chatter. I want to be there for all of it, to soak it all up. I don’t want to share my comfort zone of creativity and stories with anyone else.

But I know I must, for many reasons. I need to work because God made me that way. I need to work because I am more than a mum. I need to work because I have talents and passions that lie outside of bringing up my daughter. I need to work because it makes financial sense. I need to work, just because I need to get NI contributions so I can one day draw a pension.

So… I need to work. That means I need to play harder.

Mums, dads, friends… I have 7 and a half months. I plan to fill it with as much enjoyment as I can. Give me ideas. What should I do? Where should I go with my little one? How would you spend this time, given it again?