Confessions of an oversharent

Remember me? I’m that chick that started a mummy blog with the intention of writing weekly updates and then forgot all about it. Life has been a tad busy with two little ones 18 months apart. We have also relocated to a coastal town while we renovate our tiny house in Melbourne and I just finished my first semester back at uni since popping out cherub number 2 (fist pump).

The other day I was reading yet another article about how mundane and boring it is when people update their social media accounts with info on their kids. This is an absolute bugbear of mine. You see I am a total unapologetic oversharent. Just this week I posted a pic of my two-year-old riding my 10-month-old like a horse along with an anecdote about how hard it is to convince a picky toddler that a spinach arancini ball is a cookie.

I only have five weeks left before rejoining the corporate world and I am embracing every babycino chocolate moustache, every tentative step as my bubba learns to walk and every cuddle on the couch. Because frankly my dear, I don’t give an exploding baby shit if it bores you. It’s my life in all of its glorious mediocrity and if you’re a friend of mine, it should make you smile rather than roll you eyes and grunt.

So why do I overshare(nt)? Well I’ve thought a lot about that lately. Sometimes being a stay at home mum can feel like you’re living on a remote island with two uncooperative Energiser bunnies who gurgle, scream and spew in the place of conversation. Posting on social media feels like I’m sending a message in a bottle across the sea except that someone actually reads it in real-time and more than often responds. Ok, so it’s nothing like a message in a bottle, I may have been going a bit far with the island anecdote there. But it’s about feeling connected to the world in an age when the phone very rarely rings unless it’s a Namibian asking for my bank details and passport number. The days can feel long and lonely and when you’re investing all your time in two little beings it’s kinda hard not to make them the focus of your life’s commentary. Also living in a town affectionately known as “God’s waiting room” due to the 95yo average resident age doesn’t do wonders for the social life.

As an immigrant with family all over the world, oversharenting also offers a shortcut in keeping the ones that care updated. Believe it or not, not everyone has WhatsApp and I can’t be farked sending personalised emails to 58 relatives. I have a screaming baby to breastfeed and three episodes of Australia’s Next Top Model to catch up on (P.S. I reckon it’s a close one between Izi and the redhead).

Another reason I oversharent – I am crazy, madly proud of my little men. They are delicious, enlightening little dudes and every day I am astounded at the scrumptiousness that Lach and I managed to make. Sure they are no better than anyone else’s kids, they are probably just awesomely average but they are mine and I love them more than salted caramel cronuts.

This time in my life isn’t going to last forever, one day I am sure I will get back to the gym and develop an intense passion for protein balls. Until then, I am committed to boring the bejeezus out of anyone who will let me. Viva la oversharenting!

Returning to work – finding balance amidst the mummy guilt

From the day Moo was born I’ve second-guessed every decision I’ve made with regards to his wellbeing. While my confidence as a mother has definitely grown over the last 10 months, I am currently facing my biggest challenge yet – trying to balance the ‘mummy me’ with the ‘career-focused me’.

When I headed off on maternity leave last December, I was 80% sure that I wouldn’t be returning to my job. I said my goodbyes with a feeling of finality, wrote a letter to my boss thanking her for her support and was ready to start a new chapter in my life. A year later I am preparing to go back to work three days per week and am wracked with guilt about leaving my precious Moo in childcare, while at the same time feeling increasingly frustrated by my limited career options.

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Moo learning to crawl

Most of my reasons for returning to work are practical ones. Alarmingly the money tree we planted in the backyard has failed to fruit and my savings have dwindled down to nearly nothing. Living in Melbourne means we have a mortgage the size of a Rudd’s ego for a house that seems to shrink as the toy box grows. If we are lucky enough to give Max a sibling, Lach and I would have to take up residence in a teepee in the backyard as our second bedroom is the size of a linen closet. And then there’s Moo’s education that we need to start saving for because he’ll be ready for high school before we can blink and dem fees ain’t cheap.

My other reason for returning to work part-time is selfish. I love my job. I love being good at my job. While I’ve adored spending 24/7 watching Moo grow into an inquisitive and entertaining toddler, I do miss the mental stimulation and social interaction of work. My ambition didn’t disappear along with my pert bosoms and flat stomach. I feel incredibly privileged that I get to spend my days singing “Toot toot chugga chugga big red car” and smothering my Moo with smooches, but a part of me is also looking forward to putting on some mascara and immersing myself in something other than trying to wake up narcoleptic Jeff.

My unwillingness to give up on my career aspirations makes me feel guilty, but then I think – why should I feel bad about not wanting to throw away years of study and hard slog to become a professional ironer? I believe that enjoying a stimulating and fulfilling career is essential to my overall happiness and that will make me a better Mum.

But who knows what the right decision is, I certainly don’t. On my first day back at work, I’m sure I’ll be bawling my eyes out in the office bathroom and feeling like the worst mother in the world. But if I stay at home, I think the isolation, cabin fever and monotony will probably make me a less tolerant and imaginative Mum. To clarify, I’m talking about myself here. I don’t think you’re any less inspiring, intelligent and imaginative if you choose not to work. I also don’t believe that you’re a better mother if you decide to stay at home just because you think it’s what you SHOULD do. Life is too full of ‘shoulds’.  Some women are cut out for staying at home indefinitely and some aren’t. My aim is to try and find a happy medium and I’m hoping three days at work and four days at home will be it.

In a lot of ways Australian workplaces are still living in the dark ages when it comes to supporting new mums. I’m lucky enough to have a boss who seems open to me returning to a management position three days per week, but there is still a huge roadblock when it comes to even distribution of parental responsibilities.

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Moo and his adoring Dad

My husband is a very devoted and hands-on father. He would love to work four days a week so he could spend one day at home with Moo but as a senior executive for an international organisation, that isn’t an option. The overall sentiment is that Dad brings home the bacon while looking after the bub from Monday to Friday is Mum’s responsibility. So Mum has to either give up her career until the kids go to school or be consumed by guilt and often judged by relatives and friends for going back to work and engaging childcare.

I’d love to see workplaces being more open to Dads spending one day a week at home which would allow more career-flexibility and less guilt for Mum while supporting Dad-child bonding. I know we are making inroads, but we still have a long way to go in recognising women’s value in the workplace post-baby and Dad’s desires to spend more time raising their kids.

As a side note it shits me to tears when I go out on my own and am asked “Is Dad babysitting tonight?”, no one ever asks my husband “Is Mum baby-sitting tonight?” because it’s not friggin’ baby-sitting when it’s YOUR child and spending time looking after your offspring is not baby-sitting just because you’re a bloke, it’s being a parent! Ok, ok, I’ll stop burning the bra now…

I hope in time that mums like me won’t find themselves stuck between a rock and a demotion when it comes to balancing their careers with being loving and nurturing mothers. I also hope that Dads will feel more comfortable broaching the possibility of working part-time so they can share the Mon-Fri parental responsibilities. For now, I guess I’ll just keep lying awake at night trying to find an outcome that benefits the most important thing in my life – my Moo.