It’s strange to change who you are, especially when you thought it would never happen. I was determined not to change, to still be me but it seems there’s a new me, not better or worse, just different. Before I had a child I was very focused on my career. I’ve worked full time since I was 18 and was sponsored for my degree whilst working. I’ve always worked in media / communications roles and found a huge passion for change communications and internal communications (involving, motivating and informing employees). I’ve worked for a few charities, in travel and in defence but have been happiest when giving something back. Making some kind of difference.
I wanted to wear a suit, work in London, be respected and earn a bucket load of cash. I looked forward to the different outfits I’d be able to wear in each new decade as I admired powerful women I worked with and their clothes. I had huge respect for these women.
At the same time my beautiful sister was rearing her herd. A stay at home Mum. I had (and still have) huge respect and admiration for her, she has always wanted children and a family, ever since I can remember that’s what she wanted. Don’t get me wrong, she’s worked hard too, has a degree and all that. But her vocation is children (and bloody great at it she is too). So I had the perfect example of happiness as a stay at home mum.
But I always thought that I couldn’t do it, stay at home. I knew I wanted children one day but surely I could have a career too? I even thought this until I went back to work in June, when the pob was 13 months. I enjoyed being back at first, getting a coffee, going to the loo, talking about adult things, the usual. I still wanted to earn a bucket load, help people, be respected…blah blah blah. I still do want that, a teeny bit. But what I’m working for has meant less and less, I’m tired of the corporate speak.
As the months have passed I just want to be at home with the pob. I want to splash in puddles, make christmas cards, go swimming, sing songs, get muddy, explore woods, snooze, cuddle and just be together. I want it more than I want all the other stuff I wanted before and that is really alien to me. Its not who I was. And I don’t care what anyone thinks, working mum, stay at home mum, childless adult…It’s taken me a while to admit it to myself, I guess at first I felt resistant to wanting to be at home. How could I want this when the plan was always a balance with my career. This wasn’t me. I would lose my independence, respect in my job, being the best at what I do. But as time has gone by these past few months the pob has grown and changed and I want to be there. I don’t want to spend my time rushing him, cleaning, cooking and tidying. I want to play and learn with him, wonder in his magic. Even if it means being a bit poorer, a bit less well dressed, eating less rich foods. I would make so many sacrifices now that before I never thought I would contemplate, all to be with my pob, this motherhood thing is just crazy.
Being at home more is just another change that I didn’t expect to want but one that I hope I can achieve one day. For now I can look forward to having another year off with the sissy (as the pob calls the baby, if it’s a boy I’m sure one day he won’t be pleased at this!). And after I’ll do something, or maybe I won’t or maybe I’ll have changed again by then, maybe we’ll have won the lottery.
What is important is that I care about the pob, the sissy, our family and that I don’t care that I don’t care about my career right now. One day I will again. Just not right now. My job is to make a happy family. I love that.