It’s decided, it’s set. Next week, after an unpredicted break of 16 months, I’ll be headed back into the workforce. Back to the (hopefully, for the next while at least) 9-5 grind. After more than a year out of the game, I’ll be ditching my comfy hoodie and walking shoes and donning my more appropriate work clothes, dropping E at creche and contributing to society. I’m headed back to being a working mother. It’s a good change.
If you missed it on Wednesday night, a rather incendiary debate kicked off on Brendan O Connor’s new current affairs show “Cutting Edge”. In response to a rather thought provoking piece from writer Louise O Neill, which spoke about how being a woman did not necessarily mean you wanted kids, Niamh Horan added her two cents. The piece from O Neill had put forward the idea that women who choose not to exercise their womb are thought of as selfish. In response to this, Horan, who is of the same age bracket, commented that in her opinion it is the parents who have their children but leave them in childcare, creches, while they head out to work, who are the selfish ones. It is, she said, the children who are suffering for their mother’s need to “have it all”.
I went to work today. I got up at five past seven (oh, what a glorious lie in!), threw on the outfit I’d picked out in my head especially, did my makeup, had breakfast, kissed the man friend goodbye and walked out the door to work. Tiny man was still in Wexford, so less goodbyes needed there, and affording me the lie in. I looked like a normal 23 year old going to work and going about her day. It was just like a normal morning, but I had to go be productive and a contributing member of society again, which never seemed like such a big deal until I stepped out of that world.
I’ve less than a month left of my maternity leave. I’ve been into work, to arrange a day to come back, and how I’m going to take my holiday balance (quite healthy due to the fact I haven’t been in since November of last year..), and about changes that have happened in those months that I’ve vacated the premises. The days of my lounging around for the morning with tiny man in one arm being fed his bottle, while attempting to eat my own breakfast and having a sneaky cuddle are to come to an end.