About two weeks ago I hit rock bottom. It was all too much. I was on the go non-stop at work, and then came home to do more of the same. I was constantly tearful and snappy. Something had to give and I knew, if it carried on it, would be me.
After discussing it with my husband I decided to cut down my working hours so that I could have more home time. (I am also studying so it seemed like a good idea.) My husband thrilled, responded with a typical man comment: “I thought you were doing too much”. “Great,” I thought, having struggled like this for about a year, “and you never thought to say anything?”
We women seem to be able to juggle several balls in the air at the same time, whilst holding a fixed grin on our faces. We feel guilt if our house isn’t tidy, or we are neglecting our children by catching up on chores. We feel guilt if we aren’t seen to be pulling our weight at work due to family commitments. We are in a constant battle with the ambitious, efficient work versus the screaming, stressed out harridan our families like to call “Mum”!
So I cut back my hours, and of course my money. Having done this for a fortnight is my house any tidier? Am I on top of the ironing? Am I calmer? Have I now got me time? Does my husband come home to a house full of fresh flowers, and a wonderful dish on the table?
Do I even need to answer that? The time I worked is now spent on doing homework, clearing out cupboards, and ferrying the children to various places they couldn’t go to before as I couldn’t take them.
But I will win – one day I will have it all. But no doubt my children will have long flown the nest when I do.
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