When I think back to my childhood, I feel lucky to have had constant love and security, and to have grown up in a fun-filled, happy home. On paper it may not have seemed like a perfect lot, and like any family there were ups and downs, but most of my memories are good ones. This is largely to do with the unwavering presence of my mother, who raised us pretty much single-handedly, but was steadfast, nurturing and kind. She chose not to work during our infancy, and so my siblings and I benefitted from a great deal of one-to-one attention. I was taught to read and write before starting School, and was initiated into the complex world of social interaction through the supportive and regular circle of friends with whom we would spend time.
Me in the 70s, in my happy place. |
But adoptive parenthood is far from straightforward, and as it turned out when the time came, the summer-born little one was not quite ready for school. We were thankfully able to defer him for a year, after applying to the local authority for permission (for more on this subject, visit http://summerbornchildren.org), then I was faced with the choice of what to do about work. I really loved my job and was truly torn, but I knew in my heart that the right thing to do was to give my son a little more of me. I had already missed three years of his childhood, and our first year together had flown by in a blur of emotions and adjustment. Now I had really started to get to know him, I wanted to build on this intimacy and trust. So I took a deep breath and gave myself over to motherhood, 100%.
Our family, as depicted in Lego by my seven year old daughter. |
Leaving behind a lucrative and rewarding career to be a full-time parent may seem like a huge sacrifice, but I see this time less as a career break, more as a new venture that will ultimately enrich my arsenal of life and work skills. Certainly, bringing up my two special and complicated little people is no less challenging or stimulating than marketing books or beauty products, and I embrace the new skills and knowledge that I’m acquiring along the way. I’m learning more than ever before about negotiation, persuasion, time management, planning and teaching, and I’m changing as a person with every new parenting experience. Far from distancing me from vocational aspirations, it is opening my eyes to new possibilities and future career paths I may not have otherwise considered. I do miss bantering with colleagues, but I'm making new friends through the children, building lasting connections with others who are in the same proverbial parenting boat.
So why do I still feel awkward and like I have to justify myself when people ask me what I do for a living? Maybe it’s because of the labels associated with being a full time parent. There needs to be a better description for this life choice than ‘Stay At Home Mum’, because that makes it sound so boring and restrictive, and doesn’t come close to encapsulating all that full-time parenting entails. For me it’s also technically inaccurate because if I can possibly help it, I’m rarely At Home with the kids. We prefer to be running free in the woods, paddling in rock pools, climbing trees or scooting down the seafront. So how should I describe myself these days? Free-range mum? Progressive parent? Adventurer in Chief? Seriously though, you wouldn’t write ‘Sitting At A Desk Person’ on your CV, so why shouldn’t full time parents have a title that better defines their role? Perhaps it’s because parenting is in fact more than one role – it’s like running an entire company. A really weird and hectic company with tiny, shrill little customers.
Surely I can put 'Expert train track and marble run constructor' on my CV? |