Читать книгу The Mumpreneur Diaries: Business, Babies or Bust - One Mother of a Year - Mosey Jones - Страница 21

It seems I’m not the only one struggling with finding a new direction, post baby. Academic Mother brings her three-year-old daughter over for a playdate with Boy One and settles in for a good old whinge.

Shortly after having her daughter, Academic Mother resurrected her postgraduate thesis, aiming for a lectureship in one of the local universities. If I ever moaned about there not being enough hours in the day I just needed to look at her to get over myself. She rose at 4 or 5 am to start writing, getting her daughter up at 7 am and doing a full day of full-time parenting while her partner went out to work, putting her little girl to bed again at 8 pm only to pick up where she’d left off that morning. I don’t think her head hit the pillow for more than three or four hours at any given time. She kept this up for nearly three years until she finally submitted her work, sailing through the viva and earning her PhD.

You’d have thought that it would have been the start of a glittering career…

‘The research just doesn’t sit well with those conservative bastards,’ she moans. ‘I’ve got to get the thesis published and try to write a couple of really straight-laced articles before I’ll fit in anywhere.’

‘Weren’t you helping out at some college or other?’ I ask.

‘Only one day a week, and it was only temporary. Besides, it didn’t even keep the dog in balls.’ Academic Mother’s dog has a bit of a rubber fetish. ‘I’m beginning to think there’s no future in academia.’ She sighs.

I could have told her that, based on the heavy depression hanging over our house at the moment.

‘Your man won’t be happy with you being a Stay at Home Mum surely. What are you going to do?’

Academic Mother’s partner is certainly keen for her to get back to earning. He’s an estate agent and the rocky economic climate isn’t doing his employers any favours. His enthusiasm for her to start earning again doesn’t extend to sharing the childcare though. I can’t believe she hasn’t folded under the sheer exhaustion of it all. The Husband may be many things, but he tries to be helpful and spends time with his children. I know I can count on his support, and for that I am always grateful.

‘Ironically enough, I’ve gone into childcare – I’m registering as a childminder,’ she answers. It makes sense, if you think about it. Apart from the enormous waste of lie-ins writing that bloody thesis, she’s a natural mother and enjoys spending time with children. It’s something I’ve thought about too, but only for a nanosecond because a) my house isn’t big enough to swing a toddler – even a small one, and b) though I love my children deeply, the idea of singing ‘Wind the Bobbin Up’ for three hours straight makes me want to chew my own legs off.