A different kind of “8 to 5”
My standard day these days is a hell of a lot different to what it used to be. In my previous life as a solicitor, I would be up by 6.00am to head to the gym or complete an at home workout. I would normally be at work by 7.30am to use the quiet time in the day before the phones started at 8.30am to either dictate or work through my
endless emails.
During the day I would be seeing clients, drafting affidavits, letters and file notes, attending Court, round table meetings and mediations and fielding calls and emails from more often than not distressed and frustrated clients. This was the bi-product of specialising in family law. I would record every task in 6 minute units, I was scoffing my lunch whenever I remembered to eat (location: Cafe my desk) and not leaving the premises until after 6.00pm on a good day.
On the odd day that I took a lunch break, the time was normally used to attend meetings as a trustee/member of local organisation or to give legal presentations or advice to the community (for no charge of course). This was all my choice and often I was encouraged by my employers and colleagues to “slow down”.
Anyone who knows me well knows that I gave my work everything. It was my life, my passion, my purpose. I lived for the adrenaline I got from getting a deal over the line, or from getting the outcome (or something close to) my client sought by way of a Court hearing. I would prepare endlessly for my clients (and myself when it came to the nerve-wracking Court work). It consumed my life. It could back then because I only had myself to think about. While I often complained to Mark about feeling stressed and tired, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Then came Lottie. I was unsure how I would go from the fast-paced life I lived to being at home all day changing nappies. Many people (including myself) had wagers on how soon I would be returning to work. My vote was 6 months, but I wanted to give myself a year to really assess this as I really had no idea how I would be with the new addition.
I took it day by day, adjusting to this new little person who demanded my constant attention. From two weeks old, Lottie came with me to the house Mark and I were renovating and had been renovating since I became pregnant. I utilised every moment she slept to paint a room/window/floor, load the trailer with rubbish, or prepare, sand and stain wooden pillars on the ceiling. She was a relaxed new-born who slept a lot which was my saving grace.
Having smoko with dad at the renovation property at 2 weeks old
I was tired and stressed often, knowing in the back of my mind that we needed the income from the property being rented and that Lottie’s sleeping time in the day would decrease. Sound familiar? When I look back at this time which already seems like a distant memory, I think that the renovation was a way for me (although I really had no choice) to stay connected to that former life I led. When the last window was painted and the house tidied, I got the same fulfilment I used to get from my work as a lawyer. The hard work, perseverance, sleepless nights (remembering I still had a new-born) were all worth it.
From the completion of the house when Lottie was four months old to today where I have a 7-month-old, I have had a whole lot more time to focus my energy on being a mum. This has included but cannot be limited to:
Coffee dates with my mum group.
Staying in my pjs until unacceptable times in the day because either I haven’t had time to get changed without interruption or any outfit that I do have is on the line or yet to be washed having been spewed on the night before.
Singing along with the other mums and babies at rhythm and rhymes (yes it is a music rave for babies).
Donning my old school one piece togs (because bikinis became something I no longer aspired to wear for a number of reasons) to take Lottie to her Monday swimming lessons.
It is fair to say there is no longer an “8 to 5” day. In fact, there is no form of structure any day with a baby. Other than your baby sleeping, pooing and crying in no particular order but sometimes all at once, there are really no guarantees of what your day will bring. One thing is for certain though, babies need attention. Hold on I’m probably being too kind. Actually, they demand (!) attention. And if you don’t give them attention, they sure do let you know. As other mums out there know there is only so much of your baby crying that you can handle before pulling your (now unbrushed and unwashed) hair out. This can make for a stressful moment, period of a few hours, day or days. Sometimes it makes me feel like I am back in my former life. The difference is that Lottie can’t communicate through talk like my adult clients could. She is vulnerable. She needs me. At her age, I am her lifeline. Also, these stressful moments pass and are overshadowed by the joy in her smile, laugh, smirk, cuddles and learning. I wouldn’t trade this for anything.
Lottie has given me real perspective. What I thought was important to me, was actually not so important. What I thought I couldn’t do without I can do without. While my days look a lot different to what they used to, I couldn’t be happier. The only real personal (don’t get me started on external) pressure I feel other than trying to get as much of this typed before Lottie wakes up from her nap, is to ensure that I am the best mother and role model I can be for my daughter. I can live with that because that holds me accountable.