Showing posts with label Life as a stay at home mum.... Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life as a stay at home mum.... Show all posts

Thursday, 12 March 2015

Marking time

Today I have:


  • Got myself and both boys up and ready for school
  • Acted as referee when Boy #2's antics got too much for his older brother (no children were harmed in the making of this blog post.  My sanity, on the other hand...)
  • Made two school lunches and ensured they actually reached the right backpacks
  • Checked the Boys had the correct musical instruments, sports equipment and homework with them
  • Walked them to school and kissed them goodbye (still allowed to do that - and yes, I know how lucky I am)
  • Spent an hour volunteering at the used uniform exchange
  • Had two stitches removed (ouch)
  • Put away two loads of laundry and washed and hung up another (shoot me now)
  • Arranged a follow-up medical consultation in a different time zone
  • Tidied up my clothes cupboard and drawers, and the same for my children, making sure that Boy#1's outgrown clothes are safely put away for use by Boy #2 in a year or so's time.  (Thank god I don't have children who are fussy about wearing hand-me-downs)
  • Been through various boxes of clothes and selected an embarrassingly large amount to go to charity (and yes, some of them hadn't been out of the box since we arrived in Moscow over 5 years ago.  Oh, the shame.)
  • Eaten lunch.


So tell me; at 1.30pm, why does it feel as if I haven't actually been very productive so far today?

Thursday, 5 April 2012

Money Money Money Money - can we change the record, please?

Recently, I have been thinking about Money. More precisely, Money and Stay At Home Mums – of which I am one.



I want to start by saying that I do not for a moment regret putting my career on hold / consigning 18 years of valuable experience to the dustbin (delete as appropriate) when I made the choice 5 years ago to take a break from full-time paid employment. It has given me the chance to spend some fantastic time with my children, and it made our family’s decision to up sticks and move temporarily to Russia so much simpler.



But.



I hate, hate, HATE not earning my 'own' money. And it’s really starting to get me down.



In these recession-laden times our family is, like most, counting the pennies. Like most with one stay-at-home partner, we have those breakfast-time conversations, the ones that start with ‘You know that x amount which is supposed to last us all month? Well, I know it’s only such and such a date, but I need some more...’, which then move on to ‘And no, I’m not spending it all on chocolate and lattes’, stopping briefly at ‘When was the last time YOU did the supermarket shop?’, and which finish up with ‘So can you transfer some more to my account before you leave for work?’, all before your other half has even opened his mouth to say ‘Yes, sure, let me get straight to it.



You see, the problem with this arrangement – the one where my husband goes out to a place of employment and is paid a salary, whilst I do the more domestic-based tasks, which involve - amongst other things - spending the money, is not his attitude; it’s mine.



I find it really difficult to actually bring myself to discuss any shortfall in funds in a timely manner. For some reason, whilst logically I know that what Husband earns is as a result of our joint efforts and so consequently should qualify as our salary rather than his, it seems that deep down in a basement somewhere in my subconscious, I don’t really believe that. How else to account for the way that I put off discussing the fact that I require additional cash – and put it off, and put it off – until, like some recalcitrant teenager holding their hand out as they leave for school, I need it not next week, not tomorrow, but now-RIGHT-NOW? Not the most mature approach, I think you’ll agree.



For those of you who are thinking ‘Why not just go out and get a job?’ believe me, I've considered it - from every angle. Unfortunately, leaving aside any concerns I might have about the standard of childcare available here (over my dead body), living where we do the cost of a nanny/housekeeper to do all the jobs that I wouldn’t be able to if I were working outside the home would just about cancel out any financial gains I might make. It simply doesn’t make any sense.



So I scrape together what I can through the blog, freelancing and copy editing and so on but frankly, it isn’t much (not even enough to get taxed on) and seems to disappear the moment it hits my bank account.



Something has to change, whether it’s my getting more savvy at marketing my particular skill-set (writing, blogging, marketing, and hunting down suppliers of decent cheddar and chocolate in Moscow), or finally finishing the novel currently lurking at the bottom of list of priorities and selling it for a six-figure sum to the publishing houses all avidly waiting for me to send it off to them.



Hmm. Not a big ask, surely. Or perhaps I should just buy cheaper cheese and chocolate...?

Wednesday, 9 June 2010

Possibly my shortest post ever...


Him: "So, I hope you're impressed that I did the laundry whilst you were away last weekend."

Let's be clear here; I was away 3 1/2 days. One load got done.

Me (thinking, 'how best to deal with this one?'): "....Well, I'm not impressed - you are a grown man, after all... But (come on, let's acknowledge this somehow, and he did have paid work to do as well as holding the fort whilst I swanned off to London without them, footloose and fancy-free...) I am glad that you did it..."

What would you have said, though?

Friday, 6 November 2009

Roll on the weekend...

Once upon a time there was a smart, groomed, elegant, sassy (or at least, I like to think so) thirty something who's life was sorted.

And then she had children.

This morning this rumpled, messy-haired, slightly down-at-heel, struggling to remember the date now forty-something has:

  • dragged two unwilling children from bed
  • breakfasted them
  • tidied them up and asked them at least 4 times each to PUT. THEIR. SHOES. ON.
  • started the dishwasher (half empty, but the smell of last night's baked bean saucepan was just too dreadful not to)
  • done the school run
  • checked her oldest son's shoes when he climbed out of the car at school to try to locate the source of the very unpleasant smell, and discovered it was not his footwear, just the car decaying
  • stopped for a restorative cup of tea in a cafe and been generally amazed at how unpleasant some business people can be when they feel their space is being invaded by a small boy who is behaving beautifully - even if he is a little demanding on the subject of having Harry and Dinosaurs read to him
  • picked up a product to review (more of which later)
  • been to the supermarket
  • made more adult conversation with the guy on the fish counter than she's had in the last 24 hours
  • unpacked the shopping & put it away
  • put the laundry on (actually paying attention to the care labels for a change in the hope that the new wool jumper purchased for her oldest son doesn't shrink like the last one did, before he's even worn it)
  • Put some vegetables in the oven to roast so that she can throw them out cooked rather than raw
  • Negotiated with her youngest son for half an hour of internet time by selling out and letting him watch tv

And found out when she finally managed to fit in her first loo stop of the day that she had completed all of the above tasks with her flies undone.