Loving Lily and Working

When we found out we were pregnant, we were a little stressed about how we would cope financially (isn't everyone after the happy news sinks in?), but with a whole semester of teaching ahead of me, plus a small savings account, I was sure I would get around 12 months to be a mum and definitely 6 months. In an ideal world.

However, the world is not ideal, and I got to work just one week before my body decided that it was not suited to a long, healthy pregnancy. And then the medical bills came in, and they came in and they kept coming in. When our accountant worked it all out, even with Medicare, tax rebate and private health we were well over $5000 out of pocket. Not great for a young couple just starting out. Crippling in fact. When Lily came home, we had just three months for me to find a job before disaster would strike. So when we got a call when she was five weeks old offering me just enough work to keep our heads above water, I took it, even though Lily would be just six weeks old when I started.

I was torn up. NO ONE we knew was in our position. No book I could find advocated what I was doing, although the always beautiful "What to Expect" series said I was in good company and could do it if I had to. OR if I wanted to. Wonderful books those.

I didn't want to, it was hard, and it was stressful and it was tiring. But I love my job. Really love it and I DID enjoy it. Lily never missed a drop of breast milk. Her clothes were clean, her room was clean, she had lots of quality time with us, including reading books and playing age appropriate, development appropriate games. We mainly ate home cooked food, my clothes were always clean and ironed, and the only concession we made was hiring a cleaner. Lily spent two days at day care, but that was our choice. It was directly across the road from my work and I would spend a number of hours with her on those days. And her daddy looked after her one day, and my grandma the others. She had just as much attention and loving as if I were staying at home. She is excelling for a prem, and while a little less mobile than I'd like, is doing great for her actual age.

And I am excited about returning to work for Term 1. As I said before I love my job. It is rewarding, I am good at it and it suits mothering. I do not love it as much as Lily, but at the same time, in the months I have been a SAHM I have found it doesn't suit me. I get bored, frustrated and lonely. And that is fine. When I signed on to become a mother I did not sign on to dissolve myself as person. I truly believe I can be a better mother to my daughter if I work.

So that is why I froth at the mouth when I see "SAHM" bagging out working mums. Or pitying working mums. Or questioning how well working mum's children are raised.

My mum worked, and I love her and am attached to her and was doing I lot better when I landed in Prep than many of the other children whose mothers had been at home with them.

Even Steve Biddulph, author of Raising Boys, amongst other well knowing parenting books and a very vocal opposition to long day care for children and babies says that it takes a village to raise a child. It is only in recent times that we have abandoned that. His loudest lament is the short time fathers get to spend with their offspring and the overall reduced interaction children have with males, thanks in part to paedophile hysteria.

Queensland introduced Prep because study after study, and teacher anecdotal evidence, showed that children that went to kindergarten and preschool faired much better in Year 1 than their home counterparts.

And even if I didn't have to work, Lily would be spending one day at day care next year because I personally believe it is a good thing. Learning to share, getting colds, getting bitten and learning to bite back, interacting with people outside the family sphere.

I won't work for a year with the next one. We have planned this time for the heavy load of bed rest and medical bills. But I will return to work well before my children head off to full time school. That is how I make a happy home, and I am tired of feeling guilty about it.