So many people seem concerned about what on earth am I going to do with myself come September. I can’t say that I am the least bit concerned myself, which makes me even more sick to death of being asked if I’m being honest. My baby starts full time school in September you see. I think I must have missed the memo that told me that from the minute I became pregnant, I became open to scrutiny from one (wo)man and his dog. It never stops being annoying though, does it?
You see *shock* *horror* I’m not in a rush to get myself away from the shackles of the kitchen sink and find myself a proper job come September. I actually love being at home. Not that I have to justify my decision to be a housewife of course but you can’t help but sometimes feel defensive. Quite frankly, it is nobody’s business but ours but that doesn’t stop their incessant questions. I can’t help but think how undervalued the role of a traditional housewife must be, which is quite sad really.
I’m not saying that I will never work again. Not at all. But for now at least, I am still very much needed at home. I’m happy, my family is happy. It’s not for everyone granted, but it works for us. The house runs like clockwork for starters and trust me, the housework feels like a full time job in itself most days let alone the day to day logistics of trying to organise four children. But I am there for school drop offs and pick ups too, not to mention teacher training days, school holidays and early closures. Seriously, it doesn’t get easier the older they get, my young teens are hardly ever in school for a full week. If I had a job, I honestly don’t know how I could ever arrange the necessary childcare. At just thirteen and fourteen, I wouldn’t dream of leaving them at home alone yet. I’m not sure what working parents do, maybe they have more support from extended family? I don’t know. To a point, I actually think my teens need me more than ever. I don’t think you should ever underestimate the emotional support from having a parent at home waiting for you.
My youngest has been going to nursery for half day sessions for the last year now so I’m not actually going to be gaining that much time in my day. Although I won’t miss that extra school run in the middle of the day, that’s for sure. My days have virtually consisted of one soggy school run after another for most of this year. But in the time that I do gain, I hope to be able to get on top of the boring old chores that bit more. Although I think the reality will be that having a big family means that this is always going to be a never ending battle leaving me destined to drown in the ironing pile every night. But I’m really hoping, maybe selfishly, that I might be able to carve out a little time for me too. Time to write. Time to sit down and really crack on with that book of mine instead of it drifting to the wayside. That’s the dream anyway. Of course, to those busybodies asking me what am I going to do with all this time I’ll have on my hands, I might as well tell them that I plan to take a lover rather than tell them about my aspirations to be an author. That might shut them up. And although that does have a certain je ne sais quoi about it, I’m not sure that my lovely Mr would agree….