Five months ago, I was classified as a ‘working parent’. During that time Mr J & I, employed a nanny to look after our beloved son. Fortunately for me, I was made redundant which meant I could dedicate every waking hour to my son before his brother/sister is born. Plus my morning sickness was horrendous so being at home was a god send.
Then finally that day had arrived and now I could tick the ‘homemaker/housewife’ box and proudly say I am a full time Mummy.
However life had progressed since Finn was 12 months old. The serenity of baby life vs. toddler life was completely different. Being 24 months old, he is fiercely independent and wants to make his own decisions from what he wears, to where we go (which usually includes a stop off at the park to feed the ducks) to who we visit which usually is his buddy Tom. Why had I not realised this over the weekends before I became a full time Mummy? The classes and playgroups are different too, no more inexperienced tired Mummy’s forging alliances over feeding or sleeping. Mummy’s are the minority. They look abit less tired and are often trailing behind their Off-Spring. These places are dominated by the Nanny. The people who we put all our faith into, the people who we consider to be key member of our families, whom we share our lives with.
You can always spot a Nanny from a mile away, they are often found in packs, due their experience they are much calmer caregivers and will always sit on the side line whilst Wilfred Von Bismarck IV or Henretta Stephenson-Riley are gouging the eyes out of other child or swinging from the curtains of said venue (often a dusty church hall), the older Nannies will have that ‘bored expression on her face’ and resent every minute of the working day (I totally understand why and I’m sorry for the generalisation but this is only from my experience) and the younger Nannies spend alot of time frantically texting until they hear the “waaaaah” noise of Wilfred and will dart off in her Topshop Jeans and Nike sweatshirt.
During the early days of being a full time Mummy, I would often earwig on their conversations if they let me get close enough. My favourite convo would always be about their employers and would sound something like this “When it gets to the weekend, they let them get away with murder undoing all the good I’ve put into her all week. So by Monday she is a nightmare again-demanding chocolate, refusing food and throwing her best tantrum because she doesn’t get her own way”.
Before ticking the full time mummy box, I was totally guilty of this. Infact, the chocolate bribes or dummy were my only tool to get him to eat his meal, sleep, put his nappy on, the list goes on. Plus the treating would be a symptom of my guilt of not spending all week with him.
Now a more established full time Mummy, I understand how important it is not to spoil my son as boundaries and routine are the backbone of mummy survival. Being calm, gives your toddler the independence they need to be confident and happy (even though I do struggle with this) even if that means snatching two minutes to send a text message. So when it comes to the weekends when I pop out for some ‘me time’. I will often ask Mr J not to treat our son too many to sugary drinks and chocolate treats if we want to get through the weekend without needing a holiday. I do not think he really gets it but I didn’t until I entered into this crazy life, which I wouldn’t swap for the world.