Working Mummy Fail

Most of the time I'm very happy being a working Mum. I get to enjoy the balance of getting out, doing something for me and working with adults (most of the time, I do work in a school afterall) whilst the kids get to attend a fantastic nursery, then, for the majority of the week I get the kids to myself. It often feels like I get the best of both worlds.

But then there are the times, hot on the heels of my mum guilt about technology, where being a working mummy totally sucks.

Today totally sucked. Today I received every single crap thing about being a working mum dumped on my head in one go.

Ollie came into bed with Matt and I in the early hours of this morning. I'd normally groan and complain but he was clearly in pain and was burning up with a fever. He'd already had calpol before bed so we topped him up with ibuprofen and cuddled him until he could get back to sleep.

An hour or so later he was up again. A couple of hours after that he was drowsy and falling asleep on the sofa. Then he was clingy and crying. It was obvious that he wasn't right at all.

But I needed to work. My colleague recently left after being offered the holy grail of jobs which meant she could work from home, get paid more money and pick her kids up after school. It means that there's only one other administrator in the office and she isn't in on Wednesday afternoons or Fridays.

Nightmare.

Luckily, Matt was already taking annual leave this morning so I could do some overtime and so he called in to his work and explained that he'd be out of office all day. Something which was just as painful for him because he too has recently lost his colleague and is carrying the workload of two full-time staff members over the busy month-end period.

(I'm just grateful his manager didn't ask whether Matt's "wife was at home?" - that would not have ended well).

So Matt took Ollie to the doctors who after taking one look at the back of his throat declared that my darling little boy had 'very bad tonsillitis'.

Cue me feeling like I'd just walked away with the prize for world's worst mother. How did I not realise it was so bad? Why was I not at the surgery holding my poorly child? Why was I getting my husband to take time off work?

And I know that my family will always come first. I know that if Matt couldn't have had the time out of the office then I would have stayed at home regardless of whether there was anyone else to man the phones at work. It goes without saying. But I'd still feel a responsibility to my employer, to my colleagues. It would still feel pretty shite to be honest.

Another attack of mum guilt. Another day of questioning my choices and feeling like every decision I make is a potential disaster. And so, on that note I'm off to bed for an early night - hoping that if I get in enough sleep before it all starts again, I'll at least have a fighting chance of getting through a better day tomorrow.

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