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Clockwatching

Date: 8:00am, 07 Nov 2011

I have begun clockwatching. In the past, when I first started working and did a variety of temporary jobs packing apples and working for a frozen curry factory the clock watching involved trying to will the clock to go faster. This time round it is about trying to get it to slow down. The school run is like a relay race - first daughter one out the door, then daughter two and partner for choir and finally, bringing up the rear, the youngest section. I work at such an intensity that there is often no time to stop for my traditional burnt cheese on toast lunch so I end up having something when the kids are back from school.

The evening hours are crammed with activity [homework, dinner, baths, cleaning up kitten and guinea pig poo - boy, can those guinea pigs poo] and my intention of getting everyone to bed early never comes to fruition. Plus there is always someone who wants to be cuddled to sleep, who wants me to make an outfit for their teddy or do some last minute spelling [even homework becomes a ploy to have longer with Mummy - daughter two even asked to do extra maths the other night to eek out her time with Mummy].

She had a bit of a dramatic turn the other day which involved her abandoning her coat and sweathshirt and stomping off down the street, complaining that the whole world was unfair. This resulted, after a significant calming down period and because she is angling for another blue nose, in an offer to give me a massage. I always say count me in for any games with the kids which essentially involve lying down [eg doctors and patients. I make an excellent patient] so on Friday night I was lying down in anticipation of a back massage. Daughter two got out all the creams we have, plus the deodorant, for some reason, and the bath salts. Daughter three did my feet. It was fairly relaxing at first, but they got more and more enthusiastic. I emerged not so much relaxed as caked in bath salts.

The next day in her ongoing blue nose campaign she sent both my partner and I a sorry card. Mine began: "I no I am a payne, but you have to understand its hard having two sisters, one brother, two cittens and a guinee pig". What about looking after all that lot, I felt like saying. The baby has been waking up hourly with his teeth - in this particular case the clock seems to go very, very slowly. My nights are spent in a slightly surreal state. Apparently, the other night my partner came in, took the baby out the cot and got him to sleep and I sat up and smiled at them. I have no recollection of this at all. Tomorrow I am off to Manchester at 6am to take part in Workingmums LIVE, our one-stop shop for all things flexible working. It's the highlight of my week and not just because the train ride up there will give me a couple of hours of uninterrupted sleep.

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