One woman's perspective of (twin) parenting (and other thoughts about things)
Hello blog, friends and bots. Long time.
I recently realised that I only manage to write (and enjoy it) when life is Plodding Along Nicely. Nothing is on fire, but neither is everything full of glitter and rainbows. Because who wants to sit down and write when there are moments to enjoy or fires to put out?
Not me.
But it’s more than just that. As an introvert, I live for the greyspace between the fires and the rainbows (both of which drain me of energy). In this oasis of mediocrity, I can read, write, meditate, practise yoga - all the self-care/recharge things that my therapist would love me to do more of. That I would love me to do more of.
Three (quiet) cheers, then, for the greyspace.
…
Do you know what toddlers are really bad at?
Greyspace.
Toddler life is so black and white. So Off The Scale.
So very very Loud.
All the time.
…
So it’s bye bye writing and so long reading. Everything is either full steam ahead or poor quality ‘collapse in a heap’-type sleep. And a regular yoga and meditation practice is a thing of pure fantasy.
As if to perfectly illustrate this point, I bought this book shortly after my last blog post, nine months ago. I think I’ve read about 30 pages. That’s right, I haven’t managed to read the book about being an introvert mother, because I’ve been too busy suffering the effects of being an introvert mother. Cool. Meta.
However, the more astute of you will notice that I am currently writing. And the other day, I took that book upstairs and put it on my bedside table. Which is basically the same as reading it, I think you’ll agree. I even managed to do a bit of yoga in January.
So what’s going on?
I think, just possibly, I am turning a corner. Starting a new phase of parenthood. One with more greyspace. Dare I hope?
A few months ago, in October, I realised a number of things. Firstly, I missed study - it was only after my course finished in summer that I recognised how much of a lifeline it had been. College was a chance to be someone other than Mummy, someone with A Brain and with Something To Offer. Secondly, I was no longer coping with the amount of parenting days I was doing (the Smols were at nursery Mondays and Fridays at this point). I was simply no longer able to meet all my children’s needs at a level I was happy with - they needed to be at nursery some more, for everybody’s sake. Thirdly, I felt powerless to affect meaningful change on this second point because I had quit my job - it was the right move, but relying on one income was already proving tricky, and now we had to deal with a cost of living crisis and a desire for more nursery days. I needed to earn some money, but I realised that I had very little idea when or how this was going to be possible.
But we had clearly reached a crunch point - there was much sadness around this time - so we set about finding some solutions.
The first point was already being dealt with, because I had applied for my next course and I was waiting to hear whether I would get a place or not (I did - yay!)
On the nursery front, my husband and I worked out a way we could afford one more day for one Smol, on an alternating basis, so Smol T goes one week, Smol J the next et c.
These ‘One Child Wednesdays’, incidentally, have been somewhat of a success in alleviating parenting stress, but not quite the Nirvana I wanted them to be. I had been looking forward to being able to take the Smols to swimming lessons, for example (not something one can do when there’s one of you and two of them), but that turned out to be stressful because, well, swimming pools are weird and new and scary and why on earth is Mummy putting me through this? We persevere, though (including cancelling the lessons in favour of a weekly splash around at the local pool), and it really is lovely giving them each some undivided attention for the first time in over two years.
Finally, as far as jobs are concerned, my lovely best friend pointed out to me that I was already doing something about this because of the whole study/retraining thing. Which helped. And I decided I would look for a day job when I next had some headspace (which wouldn’t be until the new year, but I didn’t know that at the time).
However, none of these decisions changed anything overnight, partly because there was very little practical difference in how the week looked, but partly because I was yet to realise the final, crucial, part of the puzzle.
Which is this.
When things do change - when study is back in full swing, when the Smols are at nursery some more and when I have a day job to facilitate that increase - my context, my identity will switch. Childcare will no longer be the thing I spend the majority of my hours doing; I will no longer be a professional parent.
This seems so obvious now, but I’ve only just realised it. Basically, it hadn’t occurred to me that the answer to the question “How on earth do other parents cope with this?” is “They don’t.” Most of them went back to their paid jobs well over a year ago and childcare is something they do one day a week at most (and at weekends).
Phew. I thought I was just really bad at it.
And this is why this blog post feels perfectly timed, despite the hours I have spent stressing about how long it’s been since I’ve managed to write anything. Because it feels like it’s important to stick a pin in this exact moment, this moment that I’d forgotten was even coming.
Professional parenting until school is totally some people’s vibe, and more power to their elbows. Similarly there are plenty of people who are very happy to return to work in the early weeks/months. We are all, it turns out, different. But this is my time. I am happy that I’ve done it for this long, despite that not being Plan A - I have plenty of lovely memories that I know I am lucky to have made. But I’m definitely looking forward to the majority of my week being recharge time (or at least neutral) for a change. The bonus of course is that I will therefore have more in the tank to give my children when I *do* spend days with them.
There is sadness, of course, because this is quite clearly a step in a direction that is unlikely to be reversed - this is now a one way ticket to full time education and then I’ll blink and they’ll be doing their GCSEs, or so I’m told - but it’s a peaceful sadness that I’m happy to lean into and recognise as a necessary accompaniment to this much needed change.
So where is the greyspace in all this increased activity? Well, my husband has a theory that having a greater range of things to do during the week will, counterintuitively, generate more downtime. A whole day blocked out for ‘parenting/survival’ doesn’t leave much opportunity for constructive rest, but a well-spent hour between nursery drop-off and leaving for work might be a different proposition entirely. Also the kind of paid work I’m looking for at the moment - challenging enough but not high level, interesting but not my life’s work - comes with built-in greyspace, because, by its very nature, it doesn’t demand 100% of me 100% of the time. There is more to poke and reflect on here, but I’m hopeful. We shall see.
Onwards.
xx