The Classic Work / Life Balance / Juggling Act / Spinning Plates…

I have been asked to write this particular blog by the fabulous team at MummyJobs.co.uk (and DaddyJobs.co.uk) – ‘Getting Mums (and Dads) Back In to Business.' www.mummyjobs.co.uk www.daddyjobs.co.uk

Now before my current employer reads this and panics – don’t worry, I’m not on the hunt for jobs…and there’s many a reason for that which I shall explain later on.

So what’s my ‘back (to work) story’?
I went to back to work when my daughter was seven months old – to some that was too early but:
1) I was in the very fortunate position to be going back to a job I loved and missed

2) Whilst a fabulous and successful company, it is a small company and it didn’t sit right with me to take any longer off work – and no, I don’t feel guilty!

3) Money! My maternity pay was paid in full for three months and then down to statutory maternity pay every month thereafter – ouch.

My daughter took to nursery like a duck to water and so thankfully I never had that worry, having socialised her massively in preperation from being a few days old – I knew from early on that I wouldn’t be taking any longer off.

Going back to work was the classic ‘going back to work for a rest’ scenario. I absolutely loved my time on maternity leave, it was so precious and memorable but I was ready to use my brain again and to have more diverse conversations! As soon as I went back, I realised how much I enjoyed my own company too – driving in with the radio on, grabbing my morning coffee, having two arms to do everything…!

I don’t work on the doorstep of home – on a normal day, it takes 40 minutes to drive into work but get the traffic wrong and it can be a two hour journey – nicht gut! Add that to the still occasional disturbed night’s sleep that a one year old can bring and it can be a killer. As selfish as it sounds, I dread her catching another cold or teething again – my priority is of course whether she is ok(!) but I can’t lie that I don’t then wonder how much sleep I’ll lose and dread my alarm going off!

I am constantly asked why I do it, why put myself through that when I could maybe find a job closer to my doorstep?

I fought to do what I do (again) today. I say ‘again’ as my first jobs, having always wanted to work in TV and Media were for the BBC and Granada as well as having my own column in my local paper. I also did random jobs like rollerblading around the country for the new Diet Pepsi roadshow – as you do. Once I grew up a bit and moved out with my now hubbie, it was time to get a mortgage. Working as a freelancer didn’t have the same appeal by this point and, both being freelancers at the time, mortgage companies wouldn’t touch us with a barge pole. It was time to get real and look for something more ‘sensible.’

I ended up working in ‘sensible’ jobs for eight years and had by then worked my way up, travelled all over the world in my role(s), and had a company car. But I was bored. Oh so very bored. Whilst I threw myself into my work and still gave it my all (I have never quite known how to press the ‘slow down’ button!), it just wasn’t for me. I missed creativity and the art of having ideas. I missed writing and production and words. Pretentious and arty farty as that sounds, I can’t deny it!

I decided to have a look at what was out there in the media industry but panicked that I had now been out of it for too long to be taken seriously any more. Thankfully I was invited in to see a fabulous TV and video production company, then based at MediaCityUK, with bases there and in China and the rest, as they say, is history.

That was now four and a half years ago and I haven’t looked back once. I can honestly say that my job is my passion, my hobby. I love the work and I love the people. I am surrounded by people on the same level and no longer have ‘the itch.’ It is a fantastic, and I appreciate enviable, position to be in, but my God, have I worked hard for it and to be back here.

Life is definitely tougher with a child in the mix too. The nights I get home at 7pm, I have to practically get her straight to bed or ring my husband and ask that he starts her routine as I’m stuck in traffic. I dislike those nights, I have to say, but I do manage to strike a balance, and I hope one day she agrees that I did that.

We also work on a huge, well known TV show which can mean that we are filming into the very early hours, resulting in getting into bed any time between 12am – 5am – these are of course days when I don’t see that little smile at all albeit my husband always sends me a little picture of her all tucked up in her PJs which helps (me at least).

The saying goes, “Work in a job you love and you’ll never work another day in your life” and that is SO true. If I didn’t feel this, I’m not sure that I would feel balance was being restored. The guilt does kick in on occasion but then I know we’ll get that time back and I’ll more than make up for it.

I have been able to find the balance thanks to having a boss that understands the value of flexible working.

Monday and Thursday, when I work full days, I am lucky enough to have my mother in law and parents look after her respectively. Tuesday and Wednesday she is in nursery 8am-6pm – my husband takes her and I pick her up, meaning I leave work at 4pm to avoid the traffic. Fridays I don’t work and we have a lovely, quality mummy and daughter day. That day is so important to me.

Thankfully, our director understands that it is results that are important, not time-serving. I wish for so many people that their companies understood this too. It works both ways. I have always wanted to give my all when it comes to my work but it makes you want to do that more so when you are given the respect and freedom from the top to say what is effectively, “You’re doing a good job, it doesn’t matter about the exact hours you do it in.” It is all about give and take and I respect that so much. Equally, I understand that on occasion, I will have to work a longer Tuesday or Wednesday or go in on a Friday but because the respect and the trust is given, I want to repay it, and everyone is happy.

I asked a male friend who is MD at his company recently and whom has two young children, also travelling a lot with work, “How do you maintain the balance?” He stated that he picks and chooses the trips he takes and makes sure he never works weekends. Choice is what gives us the balance, and the balance is what keeps us all sane, let’s face it!

Yes, I’m absolutely shattered, yes I struggle to get out of bed some mornings and yes, some nights I go straight to bed once we’ve put her down. But to me it is all worth it. The balancing act for me isn’t just about keeping my daughter happy but keeping myself happy too – happy mum, happy baby, I say – I do so by making sure that every extra hour I spend working or travelling is put back into her in the evenings, on Fridays and at the weekend – seieng that little smile light up when we’re playing, doing something simple like reading a book or are on the little train at the park is all I need to know that all’s good in our little world.

Equally, I want her to know and to learn that the reason we are able to have such lovely times (and granted, the best things in life are indeed free!) are because mummy and daddy work so hard. Does money make us happy? In my opinion no (it certainly helps!), but no, money gives us choices and I feel it is the luxury of choice that contents us.

Had I not have been in such a great flexible position at work, I would indeed be running for the hills. I have been miserable in some of my more ‘sensible’, ‘real’ jobs and that is certainly not something I want to bring home to my daughter. I hope she too can one day find something she loves to do and pursues it.

I am so proud of a wonderful friend of mine who, upon returning home one night to her then baby, thinking she would miss him entirely before bed, and who subsequently shouting ectstatically, “Mummy!” as he saw her – cue lots of tears from her and a subsequent resignation! She is now so unbelievably happy in her new (‘home early role’!) and equally I couldn’t be happier for her.

Another fabulous friend who had previously been a teacher and had commuted every day, upon having her second child said enough’s enough and now runs her own children’s party business, marks exams and papers, private tutors and runs children’s music, football classes, you name it – I am so ridiculously proud of her – things were so happy at home that she then got pregnant with her third child (!)

Life is tough and we all have to get by which ever ways suits. There is no right and wrong. Let’s face it, every person you look at who seems to have it all covered is winging it just like the rest of us! Hats off to each and every ruddy one of us!

#RoyalBaby3

Well it's officially a right royal congratulations for the third time to good old Wills and Kate! I've always felt a slight affinity with the pair. I'm not a royalist nor against the royal family, in fact I don't spend any time thinking about the Royals at all generally. So I guess the said affinity comes from the fact that Wills and Kate got married only a couple of months before my husband and I. The build-up to the royal wedding was also the lead up to ours and so whenever I see footage of their big day, it takes me back to the giddy final couple of months of prep for our own big day.

The day of their wedding, our then street had the obligatory street party with a real buzz. I'd just returned from a huge global work trip at the time and so once I had the trip over and done with, the street party was that one final milestone til I was about to say "I do" too.

Hop forward to Kate's first pregnancy being announced. I remember it well, albeit not quite as fondly. I was driving home from work. It had been a tough day. The newsreader said the words, "Kate Middleton is pregnant with her first child." It landed at a time when of course we had also been married for coming up to a year and were already getting the, "Baby?" question from every man, woman, cat and dog. Only we had no news to report.

I had come off my pill a little while before our wedding. We figured 'why not' at the time. We didn't necessarily expect anything to happen straight away as of course you hear all the tales of 'needing to get the Pill out of your system' etc, nor in our what now seem like naive minds at the time, did it matter if I had a 'Bump on Board' at the wedding - it would hardly have been a shotgun wedding after 12 years together!

We saw out the whole of Kate's pregnancy and subsequent George across all media by which time we'd almost been married two years. Still no baby news for us.

During this time so many more of our peers had been married themselves, followed by what seemed to us like immediate pregnancy announcements. Please don't get me wrong, we were over the moon for EVERYONE. Truly over the moon for those closest to us.

Before we knew it, Kate and Will's Numero Dos was on its way. As were many of our peers' number twos. It kind of hit home around then. It wasn't happening for us.

It's a strange feeling. Feeling so happy and excited for everyone else and yet so bitter at times, not in the ugly green eyed monster sense (but, yes, maybe that at times). A little bitterness then anger then a strange black emptiness (I am trying my best not to sound too dramatic here but if this blog isn't to be honest, then surely there's no point?) - an emptiness that makes you question everything - What will the future look like? Should we have tried sooner? And then the classic, worst of obligatory questions when life doesn't seem quite fair..."Why me?"

I remember an evening when I'd signed up to sing in a rock choir (as you do!). I'd done so as, even though my work kept me MORE than busy and with a huge production or two on the go at the time and a great social life, I felt I needed something that was just about me, that just took me away from everyone and everything for a little while. Complete escapism. I walked over to the venue straight after work and was in pretty high spirits. I was looking forward to a damn good sing song if I'm honest, something that would feel like a method of alternative therapy.

I'd heard only a few days before of a fabulous friend's pregnancy. Again, we were absolutely over the moon for them but I can't pretend that it wasn't also balanced out by what felt like a huge punch in the face. On that walk over to my new found 'me' time, my phone beeped twice. Two new texts..within moments of one another. PUNCH. A scan picture, "pleased to announce....." followed by...PUNCH...another scan picture with, "pleased to announce."

Now, for fear of losing any of my wonderful friends and family over this (!), I really do have to stress how genuinely excited we were at each announcement. There's absolutely no doubt about that. We are so lucky to be surrounded by so many wonderful people who we love to pieces, and if you're happy, we're happy, if you have some huge, exciting news then it's equally huge and exciting for us too. But I can't pretend that I didn't need a little sit down in between those two text messages. And I'm someone that is pretty bloomin' unshockable by nature! I remember feeling like I didn't know which way to turn. Or what to do with myself. I felt quite alone in that moment. I felt that whilst I had so many people around me, rooting for me, I was suddenly all on my own. Like no-one could possibly understand. I did have a fabulous friend (you know who you are!) who had been through exactly the same however. Twice. Whilst I wouldn't wish what I know she's been through on anyone, it WAS a huge help to know that she had been through all of this and that every single feeling and emotion I was experiencing, she'd been there. I thank you for all those chats and for keeping me sane at times when I wasn't sure how that was possible.

But on this particular occasion I just wanted to speak to my husband. I called him and as we talked it felt like one of those scenes in a film where the protagonists are sat still whilst everyone else is going at a faster pace around them. And it's just the two of you against the world.

My husband is fabulous when it comes to a good old chat. He always tells it exactly as it is and is great at summarising (he's the practical Ying to my waffling Yang!) and at just making you see sense. He's a no nonsense, no bullshit, no drama kind of person. If I need advice on something, he always seems to know what to say. But on this occasion, he just couldn't find the words. He was heartbroken too. There was no rhyme or reason to be found. It was basically just, for want of better words - shit.

Not to just wallow in our what then seemed like a huge sob story, we all know now that our story had an incredibly perfect and magical happy ending. There are of course people who never get their happy ending. I can't even imagine the injustice they must feel and quite frankly I just want to wrap them up in cotton wool and protect them from the rest of the world where they don't receive any scan pictures nor celebrity baby news (to tell a sideways tangent anecdote - the 'OK' magazine I once read whilst in the fertility clinic - mid legs akimbo I might add! - not the clinic's finest hour when it came to their choice of reading material - every celebrity and their ruddy budgie was seemingly pregnant!).

Which brings me back to Kate and Will's baby number three. It is almost a full circle moment for me. Having felt that little affinity with them when our wedding bells rang closely together to the lump in the throat moments prior to what we now know to be the gorgeous George and Charlotte right through to their third pregnancy - the first pregnancy they've announced where I can smile and think, "aw, lovely."

It doesn't quite end there however. Whilst it doesn't feel anywhere as close to the sadness of not knowing whether you will ever have a baby at all, nowhere near as close, there is a tinge of wonder as to whether we too would ever be able to add to OUR brood. We are of course absolutely besotted with our incredible little girl and she is everything we dreamt of and more but I would love for her to have a brother or sister, someone who can always be a great friend to her as my brother always was, and is, to me. It's just not that easy a decision for us. Our decision to add to our family doesn't come from 'trying again' but from sitting down and saying do we choose to finish doing up the house or pay for treatment. It's as cold and callous a decision as that. You may read that and think we seem heartless or shallow putting something so materialistic in the same frame, but then we want a lovely home for our daughter, and are fortunate enough to have that, but we want it finished..and therein lies the moral dilemma. It might seem an obvious decision for many and a no brainer but it's just not that plain and simple. There's all the time out of work for all the prods and pokes, there's the months of hormones and injections, which quite frankly, I'm not sure I want to put my body through again, and there's the generally feeling crap, which I'm not sure I want to bring home, not to our little girl. Fertility or in our case lack of, is without a doubt something NOT to be taken for granted. There are people in my life who I swear only have to sniff sperm and they're pregnant ;) And I'm not being all green eyed monster there, hats (or keks!) off to you!

There's a lot to think about and a lot to consider but I know one thing's for sure, if I could go back to some of those darker days and tell myself that it would all pay off in the end, I would never have believed it. Our little girl is by far worth every second of the crap that we went through. I'd go through it ten times if it meant I got her at the end.

Oh ...and congrats Kate and Wills!

Stuff I've Learned

So this is my first blog post baby. My pre-baby intention was to blog regularly once she was here - ha ha ha haaaaaa - a hilarious thought knowing what I know now!! This will only be a short post (I think! Let's see how we go) but I'm using it to dip my toe back in the water so to speak and then intend to get back into the routine of a full swim!

I had a little girl, Etta - an absolute little star and only now, at a year old, have I been able to sit down and dedicate a little bit of time to writing away. As much as I absolutely adore what I deem as precious time with her now I'm back at work, I do look forward to her two-hour Saturday morning snoozes on daddy - I use the first hour of 'my' time singing and dancing to Flashdance and Grease whilst washing and drying my hair - even mocking up a little welding scenario to 'She's a Maniac' - guilty pleasure :)

So what have I learnt in the last year? I figured this was a good place to start and to get my digits type-happy again:

#1 Having a poo is the best, most pro-active, fun part of the day. The one five minutes in the day where I can be in a room, just me (unless the dog decides to pop in - welcome to the joys of our home!) reading the news, checking social media and messages - apologies to all those I have replied to whilst on the loo but this is my life now! I have informed my lovely colleagues that if they get a reply to an email on a Friday (the day I'm not in work) then there's a massive chance it was a mid-poo-reply! Sorry guys but I wear my heart on my sleeve - we're a close team and all that ;)

#2 Postman Pat Special Delivery has nothing to do with delivering parcels but should instead be called Postman Pat - 'Man (& black and white cat) with a Van'. Doesn't stop me singing the theme tune all day however. Gone are the days I'd be humming Kings of Leon's Sex on Fire.

#3 Bing is a little s*it. Sorry, but I've said it. Flop needs to sort him out whilst he's young coz he's a ruddy nightmare! On that note, who IS Flop? Tragically, a friend and I actually had this very conversation - is it his dad / carer / uncle who took him in?? Or as my friend believes, his mentor?? Answers on a postcard please!

#4 Becoming a mum is life-changing, tough and shattering at times, but beyond worth it. It's quite honestly the most fun I've ever had / am having. No-one else would get away with tiring me out this much and making life as topsy turvy as she does

#5 Babies are psychic. Once down in their cot, they know if you have just (delete where appropriate) sat down with a drink / sat down with a meal / sat down on the loo / started a film or any hobby related activity / closed your eyes - and that's when they choose their moment to wake up again. I am desperately searching for Etta's crystal ball every time this happens

#6 Suddenly life is so much more interesting, even doing the 'big shop' is now an activity filled with fun with tonnes to see and do. I love finding new things to point out or new words to say and revel in her shouting 'peas' or 'cat' in the pet aisle, or much to the laughter of half of Sainsbury's recently, "Cock-a-doodle-do" near the eggs

#7 I ruddy LOVE my sleep but can't believe how used to being constantly shattered I am. Having a job which often involves filming into the early hours, I remember the days I would get home at 2am, then sleep til 9 and get in work for 10. These days, if I get in at 2, I'll organise her things for the next day til half 2, get four hours sleep then help the hubbie get her ready for nursery at 7 (seeing her before nursery far outweighs any slumber) - something that had you have told me years ago, would've acted as a perfect method of birth control but you know what.. now? I wouldn't have it any other way :)

So, there we are. My first post-baby blog. Whoop. I've just cheesily internally high-fived myself. Hoping to really get back into this now but let's face it, she'll probably wake-up each time I sit down to start..and yes, I'm writing this on the loo ;)