To "work" or not to "work"

If you have caught up with me in the last couple of months, we most likely would have chatted about what has been the billion dollar question: whether to return to paid work or not, when to return to work and in what capacity etc etc. The other funny thing is that I have probably told each of you something different, due to the fact that I have changed my mind AT LEAST 50 times.

On Monday I finally made the decision. I say "I", rather than "we" because in the end it did come down to me. This is roughly what my journey looked like:

Phase 1: COMPLETE DISBELIEF AND SHOCK

For at least the first two months of having a baby I was completely perplexed as to how anyone could possibly have offspring and work a job at the same time. Full stop. I needed help in order to feed myself and have clean clothes for my family. There was no way that I could ever fit a job into motherhood.

Phase 2: DENIAL

From when Georgia was two months old, to around four months, I was in a state of survival, just. I was managing things like cooking food and washing. Occasionally, I even managed to clean a small section of our house. I continued to marvel at the wondrous capacity of those who worked whilst possessing children, but could think about it more than I could previously. In this phase I could momentarily daydream about what life could look like in a year, with a toddler, after staging a heroic return to the workforce. These moments were fleeting, and were usually followed by a relapse into disbelief and shock.

Phase 3: SUPERWOMAN

By the time that I had a five month old, I was really starting to get the hang of this Mum thing: She was sleeping well during the day, and we'd taught her to sleep through the night, so I could regularly string whole sentences together, carry out conversations that lasted longer than 30 seconds and undertake small projects. I picked up some of my old favourite past times like raw baking, exercising and blogging. I think that the dramatic contrast to my earlier state made me feel like I could manage anything and I let my imagination run wild. I spent time reading up on Early Childhood centres in my neighbourhood and planning out daily schedules with a commute into town.

Phase 4: REALISATION

This is me now. The rubber really hit the road: I had an offer from a previous workplace, and then shortly after I had a phone call from my current employer, as the woman who was on contract for my maternity leave had resigned. It was time to get serious.

I eagerly started planning out proposed schedules and crunching numbers, running through umpteen different possible scenarios and poring over different part time arrangements.

It wasn't until right before I met with my boss that my thoughts and ultimately my values and convictions came to the surface. These were the pros for going back to work:

Extra cash
Keep "in the game" and current with the work force
Avoid long gaps on my CV (there's the recruiter in me)
Have time to myself- ADULT time
A chance to pursue my own endeavours

But this is what it came down to:

It's a cliche, but they grow up SO fast. I unofficially surveyed dozens of mothers who now had grown-up children, and they were unanimous on the fact that the early years of your kids life fly by. Many said that they wish they hadn't rushed to return to work. I already feel as though Georgia is developing at a million miles an hour and don't want to miss a thing.

My job... for now

There are so many decisions to make when raising children. Sam and I want to be the ones making them, on a daily basis. We also want to be the ones that spend the most time with our children, especially in their early years. I don't want someone else to see Georgia take her first step, or say her first real word.

A core value for Sam and I is balance. We appreciate living a productive and full life, but having time to breathe and just be. Filling every moment of every day isn't exactly our goal, we value time to reflect, think and just be. Mornings and evenings are the busiest times in a young family, and to work all day and only be around for these crazy hours of the day sounds like a recipe for heart failure. This is saying nothing of the fact that these couple of hours of the day are made worse with adding in logistics of getting kids to and from care etc etc. I guess we're not keen to sign up for something that could really pay a major toll on our relationship and quality of life.

The final clincher is our value of health. My mother had cancer as a young mum, and our family haven't been the same since. We all take our health very seriously and keeping fit and healthy comes pretty high on the priority list for both Sam and I. It is really time-consuming keeping a nutritious and varied diet and especially for a young family, so in me being at home and able to focus on this for the first, truly important years of our kids' life we are choosing to prioritise building healthy habits for our whole family.

There you go: I'm going to be a stay-at-home Mum, at least for now anyway. I now truly get the struggle that parents go through in juggling work and home and making choices in this area, and REALLY respect those who manage to return to work quickly. You are super humans.

xx

Further points to note:
While I plan on not going into a formal work situation, I know that I need to be productive and have at least one outlet, where I can plan, carry out and achieve things (without Georgia turning into a project!). This is a work in progress, but at this point I have just taken on the management of Jonny and the Dreamboats (our covers band), and am excited to put some energy and drive into that.
I imagine the health/fitness thing will continue to be an interest/project too.
I also am not saying that I think every Mum should be a good little housewife, at home with the kids; our world is far past that! It's just the circumstances that our family find ourselves in. We are truly blessed that I even have the choice, for a start!

Boobs

So now that I'm a mum, I've been toying with the question of what my blog should look like (amongst a whole lot of other, far more important questions). I suppose I could join the underworld of "Mummy-Blogging". Maybe I'll have something funny to say, or I could write heavily dry and sarcastic complaint-blogs whining about the perils of parenthood? Realistically though, I am not funny enough, or negative enough, so I'm not sure how that would take off. I will, however, dedicate one post (this one) to the ultimate Mum-weapons.

I've never been someone with a super-strong boob-game, but this hasn't really bothered me too much. To be honest, I don't quite get what the big fuss is about. It's very clear, though, that roughly half of the world sees boobs as somehow powerful, and the other half tends to possess a pair.

Breasts. I never really use the word on its own, it seems a little clinical. Saying "boobs" is more affectionate, and familiar. My husband has never referred to them as anything else either. There are, however, scores of alternative nick-names and alternative words that can be employed to refer to the common breast. Some are quite vulgar, and others a little bit silly.

Titties.

Jugs.

Boobies.

There are heaps of terms, I won't go on.

I haven't ever cared enough to be offended by the fuss/nonsense, and I had a bit of a moment one morning this week when Sam referred almost affectionately, in a way most unlike his normal nature, to my boobs as "your milk jugs". I reeled for a moment, and searched for an appropriate response, before realizing that this was actually accurate and somehow a sweet thing for him to say.

Breast-feeding my newborn bubba

Breastfeeding. There, I use the word breast when I use the full term. This has definitely completely changed my perspective on boobies. I had a moment this morning, when my baby had decided to sleep in (wahoo!). I was able to get a quick shower and get dressed before feeding her and GOSH my boobs were about to explode. It was in this moment that I TRULY realised that my breasts (it feels weird typing it) had finally come into their own. Inside my head I slowly started to piece together how cool these feminine appendages were: I have been feeding my baby for 6 months, and I am solely responsible for all of the nutrition that she has received, and therefore all of the growing that she has done. Compare a newborn to a 6-month old: that is a lot of growing.

Needless to say, I am feeling pretty coy about my super powers. It's a very private and personal little celebration that I have been having, but I've never felt so comfortable and happy in my own little body. Power to me!

It's Breastfeeding week this week, so I'm feeling particularly chuffed that I have been blessed with the privilege of feeding my little cutie this far. There are plenty of people who are gypped of the opportunity, so I'm also thinking of those wonderful mamas.

Celebrating boobies and happy babies!