Despatches from a mother who started late (and is running to catch up)

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See, it's not just me

Pregnancy in the over 40s has reached a record high - proving how fashionable it's become to have children later in life. The conception rate has risen across women of all ages - but is most marked in the over 40s. Pregnancies have jumped up by more than 6% from 11.5 per 1,000 women aged 40-44 in 2005, to 12.2 last year. It's worth remembering that the over 40s still account for a tiny percentage of all births - around 3% - but that figure has tripled over recent years as more women, like myself, defer childbearing until later in life.

The Telegraph reports that the news will prompt 'fears that the growing number of older mothers is placing increased pressure on maternity units'. Writing as someone aged 40 and 21 weeks pregnant, you can imagine how thrilled I was to read that. It's such rubbish that older women are causing problems in the NHS.

Apart from going mental when I told a locum GP I was pregnant and she asked me (without looking away from her screen) if I was planning on continuing with my pregnancy, (I never went back to her) I follow all the instructions in pregnancy - little or no alcohol, sticking to (probably spurious) caffeine limits, no cold remedies, fear of pate and liver, obsession with pasteurisation, location of nearby hospitals etc. My roots are growing through grey; I'm too scared to risk hair colouring. Baths are tepid.

Every health professional I've interviewed for my book on being an older mum, Fashionably Late, agrees that older mums are often less of a problem to the health service because, like me, they're compliant and do as they're told, like cutting out smoking, since they want the child so much. That leads to reduced (or zero) risk of complications like listeria infection, foetal alcohol syndrome, poor growth rates.

So it's a bit rich to blame older mums for strains in the health service, whose problems obviously go far beyond a few later starters like myself having babies later on in life.

Needless to say, The Telegraph does not miss the opportunity to have a dig at women concentrating on their careers, claiming that when professional women return to work after having children they often move 'into jobs where the average employee lacks even A-levels'. Can this be true? It's not my experience - or that of my friends. But still, makes for grisly reading.

Older women are often attacked for their 'selfish' emphasis on 'careers' (for 'career' read, grafting away in some horrible job to pay rent/mortgage while being messed around by some bloke too immature to commit to family/children) but this means we've paid shedloads more in tax to fund the NHS. So why shouldn't we cash in our tax investment and get something back? Most of us won't be getting any tax relief on childcare expenses, or much in the way of government maternity benefits, (unlike in most European countries) so we might as well enjoy having our babies on the NHS.

Posted 28 February 2008 15:34 | Number of comments: 11 | Comments

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Taxing times

Now that the hell of filling out tax returns is behind us, I have to vent about the scandal of how couples in the UK receive little or no tax relief on childcare. I am self-employed, so can offset certain expenses again my income. Unfortunately, childcare doesn't count as an 'expense' - which is ridiculous, since I couldn't work if I didn't pay someone else to look after my daughter a couple of days a week. It seems wrong you can offset phone bills, broadband, stationery, printer cartridges (don't get me started on that one) and the odd taxi fare against tax - but not the shedloads of cash that my husband and I shell out on childcare - easily our largest expense. I know that David Cameron has dreamt up some wheeze to promote marriage, which will mean that wives can give their husbands their unused tax allowance - but that isn't going to do anything to help working mothers (and certainly not the unmarried ones). If the government is serious about promoting gender equality in the workplace, it might want to start by doling out better tax treatment of childcare. As things stand, the fact nursery fees don't count as tax-deductable makes me suspect there is still only grudging acceptance of women with young children continuing to work.

Posted 01 February 2008 21:46 | Number of comments: 16 | Comments

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Chore wars

Financial pressure on families is so intense that men are increasingly keen for their wives to work, but less so if their children are under school age, reports The Telegraph.

Far from regarding the role of breadwinner as male, the number of men who believe it is the man's job to earn money has dropped by almost half, from 32 per cent in 1989 to 17 per cent in 2006. The findings are part of the latest British Social Attitudes report, an influential government-funded survey.

Women's motives for getting back to work are mixed: some are the main breadwinner, others feel it wrong to waste their education and some say their job is part of their social identity. Many simply need the money.

Some things remain reassuringly unchanged. The battle over who does the household chores has barely moved on in recent years.

Almost eight in 10 people with partners say the woman usually or always does the laundry, a similar proportion to 1994. Surrounded by damp laundry as I type, I can agree with that one, though in fairness to Va-vay, he's good at ironing and more than pulls his weight around the house.

Men and women disagree when it comes to saying how much of the housework they actually do - a situation The Telegraph wittily describes as the "chore wars".

Two thirds of women say that they usually or always do the cleaning but only 54 per cent of men say this of their partner.

The most liberal division of labour is reportedly found among couples where the woman works full-time. Some days I feel pushed working part-time from home. I'm beginning to worry I'll never get the nerve up to go back to full-time work.

Posted 23 January 2008 11:08 | Number of comments: 6 | Comments

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Predictions

My predictions for 2008's parenting edicts - with thanks to Scott Pack at Me and My Big Mouth for inspiring the format. I hope - or in some cases fear - they'll prove unfounded, though they might prove closer to the truth than I suspect.

January - any pregnant woman caught drinking, smoking or eating unpasteurised soft cheese will be subject to imprisonment and a fine, announces the government. Any pregnant woman looking like she's enjoying herself will be sent to Guantanamo Bay.

February - a study appears highlighting the plight of women who have no choice but to stay at home to care for their children, claiming these mothers are an economic drain - on the same day the government again refuses tax relief for childcare expenses.

March - more reports decrying 'older' mums who hog medical resources appear. Government ministers make disapproving noises, but do nothing to improve job security or make affordable housing available - steps that would enable younger women to have children more easily.

April - moves by women's pressure groups to persuade employers to introduce more and higher-status part-time jobs are rebuffed by UK firms, who insist the only way to hold down a high-powered job is by living in a camp bed under the desk. 'It cuts down on commuting time,' workers are told. Plans emerge for training counsellors in 're-introducing' workers to their teenage children and rehabilitating staff in family life.

May - in a bid to cut costs, cash-strapped NHS hospitals turn away women in labour, encouraging them to give birth naturally, at home on their own, without a midwife or doctor. "Light some candles and hop in the bath," the few remaining midwives employed by the NHS tell women. "Good luck." Women are encouraged to think of the bragging power they'll have following a 'natural' birth.

June - new mothers to be offered tax credits for breastfeeding. Better-off mothers plan to spend their 'boob money' on restorative underwear that will lift their depleted assets. Unfortunately, the effect is negated by a decision to allow formula milk makers to sponsor the few cash-strapped labour wards still open.

July - IQ tests are introduced for six-month-olds, who are to be streamed at council-funded nurseries. Anxious parents employ home coaches who push babies to improve their loading and stacking skills.

August - as stats show that more children are born to women in their thirties than any other age range, 'older' mothers are praised in the press for their emotional maturity, financial stability and parenting skills.

September - a survey showing that children whose parents spend time playing, reading and interacting with them grow up to be well-balanced individuals makes front-page news.

October - outraged by the spate of wierd celebrity baby names, the UK government follows the French example of introducing an official list of baby names. Anything not on the list (Fifi Trixibelle, eat your heart out) is not allowed. Management consultants are called in to make an appropriate list (Jean-Francois looking unlikely to catch on in the UK).

November - research proving that 'older' women's fertility is not much different to younger women's remains ignored by all the mainstream and specialist medical press.

December - no more babies are allowed to be born this year, the quota has been reached.

Posted 01 January 2008 17:28 | Number of comments: 11 | Comments

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A funny old year

Some highlights - and some not-so-good bits - from 2007:

January - back to work for first time since having Beanie. It's like returning from exile in a foreign country. Painful to be parted from her. In more ways than one. Am still breastfeeding so by mid-morning my boobs are so hard I have to squirt out milk by hand in the loo to relieve the pain. My co-workers all seem young, slim and trendy. They're a nice crowd, but I bet none of them have ever even seen the structural monstrosity that is a nursing bra. It's hard to be hip when you're lactating. Am struggling to lose post-pregnancy weight.

February - builders rip our flat apart to investigate for dry rot. Fitted carpets (laid only a year earlier) are taken up, architraves ripped off the window recesses.There isn't any rot, as it turns out, but in darker moments I sometimes think there might as well have been, with all the mess, upheaval and expense.

March - pregnant again, after only the first month of trying. It happens so easily, the pregnancy feels unreal from the outset. Va-vay and I - both exhausted from last year's onslaught - are ambivalent. An air of unbelievability hangs over the pregnancy's entire (short) duration. I'm not sick, tired or dizzy. At the time, this seems a good thing.

Start this blog, following a chance encounter with a writer at an Edinburgh City of Literature evening. Unsure where it will take me.

April - Beanie's first birthday and our second wedding anniversary. Beanie walking. Reluctantly, I wind down breastfeeding, thinking I should concentrate resources on the new baby.

May - start bleeding, losing bright red blood. When we go for a scan the next day, the monitor shows the baby has no heartbeat and probably died several weeks previously. People quote statistics at me, telling me 'how common' it is. Despite my earlier ambivalence about the pregnancy, am wretched at losing it. Feel a fool as well.

June - Va-vay goes on reproductive strike. He wants a break over the summer from trying for a child. I am now desperate for another baby. Everywhere I look I see prams, babies and smiling mothers. Despite the statistics, I can't imagine any of them ever having a miscarriage. I interrogate friends on whether they're pregnant, dreading them saying yes. It isn't healthy, but I can't help it.

July - Counselling helps me start to come to terms with the loss - and I manage to agree to wait before trying again.

August - Edinburgh International Book Festival. Hear Ian McEwan, Benedict Allen, Colin Thubron, Janice Galloway, Kate Mosse, Simon Armitage, Antonia Swinson, Esther Freud and Kitty Aldridge speak. This is fun. Realise I haven't enjoyed going out and about like this since before I was pregnant with Beanie.

September - Scott Pack of The Friday Project signs me up to write a handbook for women who become mums 'fashionably late'. Looks like this blogging business is going somewhere after all.

October - holiday in France. Happy days.

November - turn forty. The event I've been dreading all year. Worse in the anticipation than the deed. A slap-up lunch with Va-vay eases the pain. I felt like this when I turned thirty - now I can't understand what the fuss was about.

December - difficult start to the month, with what would have been my due date. But good news follows. Can't say too much at the moment, but will keep you posted in 2008.

Posted 31 December 2007 11:25 | Number of comments: 13 | Comments

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Breaks and Ladders

Interesting piece in The Economist about patterns of female employment. According to Sylvia Hewlett of the Centre for Work-Life Policy in New York, more than a third (37%) of all professional women drop out of work at some point and even more will spend time working flexibly. Depressingly, getting back into work isn't easy: only 40% manage to find full-time jobs. And even those women who do make it back full-time suffer a huge loss of earnings - a 38% fall for those who've been out of the office for three years or more compared with those who stayed. The report says the big accounting firms do more than many employers to retain "off-ramped" female staff, offering formal career breaks, flexi-time, home working and seasonal schedules which can fit with school holidays. A couple of other employers offer project work to women who don't want to take on full-time positions. Let's hope more employers follow suit.

Posted 26 July 2007 11:57 | Number of comments: 14 | Comments

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Leave us mums alone

The children of working mothers are more likely to be obese or overweight, says a new study. Around a quarter of the 13,000 children studied by the Institute of Child Health in London were overweight or obese by the age of three. No prizes for guessing who's allegedly to blame.

"Long hours of maternal employment, rather than lack of any money, may impede young children's access to healthy foods and physical activity," said the researchers.

The more successful mothers are, the worse the problem, which I find hard to believe. Children in households earning £22,000 to £33,000 were 10% more likely to be overweight than in households earning under £11,000.

In the last 25 years stay-at-home mothers have fallen from nearly 55% of the total to just 21%.

Reading studies like this, I wonder why working mothers seem to attract more flak than convicted criminals/fraudsters/estate agents.

What's behind these studies that attempt to guilt-trip hard-working and loving mothers, doing their best to keep a roof over their families' head?

Why don't we see reports criticising the government for lack of affordable, flood-free UK housing that would mean more mums could stay at home?

Or a study calling for better-paid, higher-status part-time jobs, with more flexible working, that would mean fewer parents have to work full-time?

Or more criticism of the food giants that make their money peddling fatty convenience foods to young kids?

Leave us mums alone, I say.

Posted 25 July 2007 12:51 | Number of comments: 21 | Comments

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Home work - oh, and I'm a Rockin Blogger!

After six months of working from home, I'm finally realising there are ways to make it easier on myself and the rest of my family. It seems only polite to share these ideas on home-working with you all. So, here are my suggestions.

Please feel free to disagree or jump in with any ideas of your own.

1. If your budget can stretch to it, invest in a decent office chair.

Using a dining room chair for my work was threatening to cripple me. So I've just ordered a proper swivel chair with good back support. I couldn't stand up straight after some days hunched over the laptop. How I wish I'd done it sooner.

2. Don't use your ordinary home phone for work calls.

Safeguard your privacy. Get VOIP (voice-over internet protocol). Calls are cheaper. And you won't risk picking up the home phone thinking it's your mum or husband, only to find yourself talking to an important client, who will thrill to the accompanying shrieks from your small and attention-deprived child.

3. You might think you're working two days a week. Many of your contacts won't. Set boundaries - politely.

This is a tricky one. Tip 2 helps. Obviously, it's important to strike a balance, and remain flexible to maintain important relationships. After all, this is work. Unless I say "no" sometimes, my 'two-day' week could include every available crack of time, morning, noon and night.

4. Ensure you get some fresh air daily.

It's all too easy never to leave the flat, especially if my husband takes The Bean to nursery. A stroll round the corner to escape the citadel cheers me up no end. Coffee at the local deli/cafe on my own is a real treat.

5. Remember that office workers march to a different beat

How dare my husband get short with me when I've phoned up for a good long chat?

6. Make an effort to meet people

When even the postman is walking faster as you hove into view because you've spent so much time gabbing about weather/holidays/postal strike, it might be time to meet other work-at-homes for a quick coffee.

7. When you're cursing your solitude, remember all the things about office life that got you down

I'd better be discreet here.

8. If you're setting up on your own, give yourself time to get established

Don't expect instant miracles. Be patient. Suffice to say, I am not a patient person. I wish I were. I married someone patient, hoping it would rub off on me. So far it has not worked. I cannot ask for my money back. I cannot send him back now to the lovely vicar who married us. It's too late. The 'return-by' period has expired. I could not imagine living without him. You see, I need his patience.

9. Try to keep at least one day weekly completely work-free

Okay, it's hard to resist a sneaky daily look at that inbox. But at least one day a week of minimal work is refreshing.

10. Don't feel too bad about frequent tea breaks.

Think of all the time wasted in offices catching up with what colleagues did at the weekend. Or hawking round birthday cards. Not to mention "internal meetings". You probably get more concentrated stretches of work done at home.

11. Never buy biscuits

Self-explanatory, I should think. I didn't get this blog title by accident.

Other news:

Erica from Littlemummy has made me a Rockin' Blogger! Thanks, Erica. I'm delighted!

That means it's my turn to award the Rockin' Blogger to two other sites.

So, here goes... I'd like to choose Omega Mum from Three Kids No Job and Beta Mum from Keir Royale. They both write warm and witty blogs about their lives that I find quite addictive. Omega Mum, Beta Mum, over to you! Your turn to award two blogs you like this thumbs-up.

Erica, thanks also for setting up a UK Parents Blog Ring (details in the blogroll, right). I've already signed up and understand from Erica new members are welcome!

Posted 12 July 2007 22:40 | Number of comments: 32 | Comments

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Disemvowelling

I'm not a girl who's easily scared of acronyms - but it would have been nice to have some warning before I became a mum that my life as a parent, especially a blogging parent, would be dominated by them. Take your pick - are you a Stay at Home Mum (SAHM), Work at Home Mum (WAHM), or just plain sahd? We all have to be something, it seems.

No offence to my fellow blogger Stay at Home Dad, who's got a nice sense of humour and doesn't seem to take these things too seriously, but is this really how we're supposed to define ourselves as human beings?

It's almost enough to make me want to claim I'm a 'homemaker'. Another fellow blogger, Dooce, has a nice variation on what SAHM might stand for. I'm too inhibited to spell it out here.

Today I came across a new acronym - FTBCWM - for Full-Time By Choice Working Mother. Or EOE, for Embodiment of Evil, in certain circles. Fairly trips off the tongue, doesn't it?

I'm thinking of inventing my own title - PTBCAHWM. Part-Time by Choice at Home Working Mum. The hyphenation's a nightmare. But it fairly sums up my working day. And the world of the working mum is consonant-rich and vowel-poor, you see. My title could, alternatively, be a new transcription of a 5am seagull cry as the beast swoops on our rubbish bags.

Or it could stand for Poor in Time, Bewildered and Confused, At Home When Money permits. That could cover a lot of mothers, I reckon.

If you don't believe me about these titles then have a look over at Alpha Mummy, where a real old cat fight has broken out between stay at home mums and workers. The fights's got so nasty it's ended with one of the more vitriolic participants being disemvowelled - the first time I've ever come across this gruesome process outside medieval England. We were none of us overly endowed with vowels in this battle to start with.

It's not that I have a problem with acronyms in themselves. I mean, I fell in love with and married a paid-up geek. Don't laugh, but our courtship included word games based on car number plates we spotted as we strolled along. The Bean and I share our home with shelves of books with titles like XML Primer Plus, C# for Beginners, ASP.NET and XSLT. They give me indigestion when I so much as look at them. Don't even get me started on the stash of computing books in the bathroom.

But I could never tell anyone who asked me what I do: "I am a WAHM. A Work at Home Mother." It'd be like being some tragic pop groupie from the 1980s, in denial that George Michael was gay, bouncing about in leg-warmers, ra-ra skirts and feathered earrings.

But when did all this nonsense about parenting types start? And why do we need these silly titles?

Maybe we invented the titles to give ourselves a sense of identity. Just like we coined the phrase 'parenting' for the stuff our own mothers used to do with no other job description besides 'mother'.

When The Bean arrived 15 months ago, people stopped asking me what I did for a living.

Instead, they started saying: "And what does your husband do?" As if The Bean's beaming presence at my side meant I was out of the job market for a while, and if they wanted to know about our financial status they'd need to check on her dad's earning power.

Maybe other women had the same experience, felt the same way, and so dreamt up these titles to give themselves more status.

I don't know what the people who inquired about husband's job were hoping for, but when I told them he was in IT, their faces generally went blank and they'd change the subject. It was sort of a relief. I don't have much IT small talk. Obviously they didn't either. Maybe I should have said: "He's a Mobster dad. Come on, you know, M-O-B. Mainly Office Bound." Or MOB for Man Overboard. Now that would have been a bit more accurate for the crazy early months after The Bean arrived.

Posted 04 July 2007 21:06 | Number of comments: 28 | Comments

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Happy campers

The first family holiday is a shock. Ours wasn't a holiday at all, not in the strictest sense. We worked harder than I've done in some paying jobs. It was hard graft. Day and night. Each evening I squirted my milk into a bowl and mixed it up with powdered baby rice for my daughter. I still remember the sound it made hitting the plastic. It was fun. But in an unfamiliar, cow-like way. I felt sad at losing the old freedoms. In private, I cried.

Back in the heady days of coupledom we used to book a cheap flight somewhere, then wing it, smug about being proper "travellers". We only once came to grief, descending from a Cevennol mountain to find a room for the night in the valley. A Festival de Cinema had taken all the accommodation in a 10k radius. No room in the inn. Again, I cried.

The nice monsieur in the local hotel rang round. After many worried looks, he found us somewhere and sent us off with rabbit stew for our supper. After all he'd done for us, I had no heart to confess my husband was vegetarian. The cottage was grim; no windows. The bed too small to accommodate me or husband. I woke several times with nightmares, unsure if awake or asleep. A long night.

We left the next day, both blaming the other, and got a room in the hotel, which all the actors had by then finally left. We stayed for two days, because we had no money and the one cashpoint in the village was in a shop that didn't open until for another two days. The hotel staff asked every time they saw me "Ca va mieux?", which seemed to translate as "You're not going to have a nervous breakdown on our premises, are you?"

Not wishing to risk a repeat of this on a family holiday, we've agreed to plan ahead. I'm not experienced in any of this, but we're ruling out hotels. Either we'd have to leave daughter alone in the room while we got our meal. Or sit there in silence and darkness from 7pm.

The obvious solution would be self-catering. But that would mean booking a place for a week or fortnight, and then we'd be stuck. I've a yen for adventure, and would love some of the old spontaneity.

So we're investigating tents. I discovered on Saturday tent brands are named after birds. Buzzard, Hawk, Shrike. It speaks of freedom. Prairie, Roadrunner, Vista, Oregon, Halo, Aurora. Challenge and adventure. In my imagination, I'm there. But our daughter is already ahead of us. Her Pop-Up Activity Tent arrived home yesterday.

Posted 03 June 2007 20:19 | Number of comments: 6 | Comments

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Escape from it all

I've come across a great site called Shedworking that could have the perfect solution for us work-at-home-mums - or WAHMS, in proper blogosphere parlance. It features lots of beautiful sheds, some of which you could site in the bottom of the garden and use as an office.

Apparently the shed's growing in popularity as a thinking and working space, and it could work a treat for working mums - just think, no more working next to damp laundry, our very own space free of husband's and child's discarded socks, half-eaten rice cakes and obscured toys that threaten to cripple.

I have to confess I've been a bit out of touch with the world of sheds. They've gone all designer and beautiful since I last knew anything about them. Now they look more deluxe than some of the wooden houses on Grand Designs.I think Kevin McCloud would like them.

There's only one hitch to my plan. We live in a second-floor city centre flat. And while I'm thinking about applying for an allotment there's a current three-year waiting list. Another reason, perhaps, to join that well-trod path to the suburbs.

Posted 31 May 2007 11:44 | Number of comments: 8 | Comments

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Feminine mistakes

An article on the excellent News for Parents site reports that an American writer has stirred up controversy with a book arguing that mothers who don't work could be risking their financial security, as well as their happiness.

In The Feminine Mistake, Vanity Fair journalist Leslie Bennetts warns stay-at-home mums that their decision to give up economic self-sufficiency and rely on their partner could have disastrous consequences.

The book's title's an ironic nod to fellow American writer Betty Friedan's 1963 book The Feminine Mystique, the groundbreaking work credited with launching the feminist movement. The book attacked the idea a husband and children were all a woman needed for fulfillment.

The latest book's stirred up a hornet's nest in the US, where according to poor Bennetts, stay-at-home mums are "burning up the blogosphere denouncing me". Last time I checked there were no fewer than 68 heated reviews of the book on Amazon alone, most of them huffy and defensive, all defending the writer's personal choices on working or not working.

Bennetts, herself a working mum, insists she only wants to alert women to dangers in giving up work to rely on a partner's income, like divorce, or a husband losing his job. My fellow blogger Omega Mum over at 3kidsnojob can tell you all about the latter scenario in her entertaining account of what happens when a husband loses his job, in their case through no fault of his own.

Bennetts also says that women who take career breaks planning to get back to work once the kids are ready should know they will take a huge salary hit - and might not get back to the same level at all. And there's also the sense of self-worth that women can gain outside the home. Plus pension entitlement. I'll see what she says about part-time work-at-home mums, and let you know about that.

The report was mostly manna to my web-weary eyes after a sorry day filling up the depleted Mother at Large household coffers. But why do I need a US author I've never even met to validate my parenting choices? Why do I need to read this to feel okay about how I arrange my life? Am I the only mother who needs approval from a book I've not yet read for choosing to work? I'd like to see a time when women can make career decisions without reference to a battery of parenting experts. Then again, maybe most women already do.

Posted 30 May 2007 22:44 | Number of comments: 6 | Comments

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Money talks

A new survey provides further proof, not that we should need it, that we working mothers are not a bunch of sybaritic "have-it-alls" after all. It proves what many of us probably knew all along: many, if not most, mothers who work do so because their families need the money.

Research published by Scottish Widows says the cost of running a home means that almost half the nation's households need more than one breadwinner to maintain what it calls an "acceptable" standard of living. In other words, most women don't have much choice about whether to work. And those are the households without kids.

What's worse, the firm says: "When it comes to those with dependent children, the need for two incomes increases, with one in two households relying on both partners working."

It notes: "Those with children have, as would be expected, higher levels of debt on both loans and credit cards than those without."

Apparently, the average household with two dependent children is £106,600 in debt, a whopping £19,100 more than the average household without children.

So if any mother reading this is feeling alone in having to return to work to help pay the bills, or guilty about it, now you know you're in good company - about half the rest of the country, in fact.

Now, I don't know what the survey is defining as an acceptable lifestyle. My idea of a comfortable lifestyle is probably fairly modest by the standards of somebody like Dulwich Mum, bless her, who might well have different ideas on lifestyle, as those 4x4s and Dior handbags don't come cheap.

But I'm guessing that when the survey says households need more than one breadwinner to maintain a comfortable lifestyle, they're talking fairly average, low-key aspirations involving one holiday a year, maybe, a car, a few evenings out, decent threads for her, some hi-tech gimmickry for the bloke, the odd weekend away, that sort of thing. We're not talking ruthless ambition here, just funding a reasonable lifestyle.

Reading this survey, which I first came across at Enterprise Nation, I couldn't understand how anyone could call a working mother a "have-it-all" - unless they were referring to her levels of debt.

Posted 28 May 2007 16:38 | Number of comments: 10 | Comments

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The parenting paradox

You just can't win as a parent. It was my health visitor who explained the parenting paradox to me. If you take your child to ballet/football then you're labelled pushy, she explained. If you don't, you'll feel guilty for not encouraging them. Know the sort of thing I mean? Whatever you do, you can't win.

Fellow Edinburgh blogger Littlemummy did an amusing posting the other week on Socially Recognised Parenting Standards. Reading it made me realise we parents will never achieve parenting perfection, because no ordinary human could ever attain the standards we set ourselves.

I started thinking about the never-ending series of exacting rules and parenting commandments that all contradict and conflict with each other. So even if you manage by some feat of superhuman stamina to meet one of them, then you'll be breaking another at the same time. I suppose the only way round this is to concentrate on what we each think is right, and ignore other people's ideas, however well-meant.

These are a few thoughts on some of the main parenting paradoxes

Breastfeeding

Any young mum can tell you of the immense pressure to breastfeed a new baby. Not so many people talk about how only a few months later there's similar pressure to stop. In hospital after having my daughter my boobs became public property, staff were so keen for me to learn this womanly art. Hands came from everywhere to latch the baby on. Someone even told me to follow the "nose to nipple" mantra - a policy that was to cost my poor nipples untold anguish. Then, just about as soon as I got breastfeeding going smoothly, it seemed to be time to stop. No sooner had we got past the toe-curling agony stage of nipple guards and Lansinoh cream, than people were saying things like: "You've got to wonder who's benefitting from this - the mother or the baby."

Mother-infant bonding

Pick up any of the legions of parenting books available now and you'll read about the virtues of responsive attachment parenting, that involves "baby wearing", baby massage, skin-on-skin contact, and breastfeeding. The idea is these practices supposedly promote a strong bond between mother and infant. Fast forward only a few months later and it's all about fostering a healthy sense of individuality and self-assertion on the baby's part, with dark looks cast at clingy babies. How much is a good thing? When does a good thing turn into something bad? How do you get the balance right? Well, it seems you can't, because the goal posts are always moving.

Work vs parenting

This works a bit like this: you're not quite recognised as a proper human being or accorded any status if, as a mother, you don't do some form of paid work, but if on the other hand you do work then you must also express conflict, regret and guilt for doing so. Truly, no-win all round.

Any mother who loves going to work because, as much as anything else, it means they can go to the loo alone never admits as much, but instead expresses stoical regret that her life has worked out this way.

There's more on this theme over at The Bad Mothers' Club. Any thoughts on other parenting paradoxes?

Posted 27 May 2007 16:37 | Number of comments: 9 | Comments

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Job for life

Apparently if the typical stay-at-home mother were paid for her work, she'd earn the annual equivalent of £70,000, at least according to a set of so-called "compensation experts" based in the US. Unfortunately, the survey doesn't make clear who's going to fork out the moolah for all our hard work. Government? Husband? Children? Will our kids add this to their student loans? But still, it's nice to know we have some earning power left, even if it is mostly theoretical. I first read about this at Manic Mama.

My main objection to this survey, produced by Salary.com, is that I think they've missed quite a few important activities from their list of maternal roles, which falls far short of covering the full job spec. So I've listed a few additional roles they might want to consider next time they're doing the survey.

This is their list of jobs making up the £70,000 salary: 1. Housekeeper 2. Cook 3. Psychologist 4. Day care centre teacher 5. Laundry machine operator 6. Van driver 7. Facilities manager 8. Janitor 9. Computer operator 10. Chief executive officer (though try telling that one to Dad).

And here are the ones I think they missed. Apologies for some of them being so medieval. Please let me know your thoughts on any others that should be on the list.

1. Nightwatchperson   Okay, gone is the lantern or candle of yesteryear, replaced by more up-to-date equivalents, like the Tomy baby monitor. And it's more dressing gown than big caped cloak and boots. But there's still the same lonely, cold pacing around after midnight, to check that all's well, investigating cries in the night. And what about some extra money for unsociable hours, I'd like to know?

2. Dancer/Singer   Before having my daughter I considered myself a fairly shy and inhibited person, except when drunk. Now I never drink but will sing, dance and cavort almost anywhere if I reckon there's a chance it'll make my daughter stop crying. "Old McDonald had a farm, ey-ay-ey-ay-oh!!!"

3. PR Officer   "You'll never guess what our beautiful daughter did at nursery today! She pulled herself up to standing using just a shoebox for balance!" I almost have to stop myself from issuing a press release.

4. Health and Safety Officer   Detaching Mr Bear's pink nightcap, lest my daughter swallow it, nagging long-suffering husband to nail bookshelves to the wall, covering sockets, hiding toilet cleaner, keeping daughter away from dishwasher and oven, begging kind neighbours not to paint their front door while we're around...

5. Journalist   I've filled notebooks with detailed accounts of my daughter's exploits that I plan to keep for posterity.

6.Nutritionist   Poor performance appraisal here. People brandish Annabel Karmel books at me all the time, and I do my best, but follow her recipes in vain. Actually, I spend ages agonising over my daughter's food intake, still currently limited to apple puree, porridge and bread sticks, because I know it can't be that healthy. Her dad persuaded her tonight to add banana, raspberries and raisins to the list, which she did grudgingly. Anything I cook is a big no-no. Last week I had my head in my hands at suppertime, crying, I felt such a failure for cooking up this food she instantly rejects. She throws it at me, or on the floor.

7. Speech therapist   Daughter: "Haahlaahla" Me: "That's brilliant! Let's say it again." Daughter: "Laaaaaaa" Abrupt stop. Me: "Look, the little monkey in the book is saying 'Hug'. Isn't that clever? Let's try and say 'Huuuuuuuug'." I could go on.

8. Stylist   It's not as easy as it looks to achieve that casually thrown together boho-chic look for the under-twos. Especially when the under-two in question is determined to shed socks, shoes and cardi wherever she can, before regurgitating Annabel's rejected gloop onto her top.

9. Entertainments Officer   Playgroup, nursery, "playdates" - urgh, terrible expression, park. It all takes organisation, you know, even if the babies and toddlers mostly ignore one another at these various social events, except to "borrow" each other's toys.

10. Nurse   Bathing gunky eyes in salt water, kissing scratches better, clearing up sick, administering Calpol. Oh, I forgot, nurses are like stay-at-home mothers, another largely disempowered social group, being (mainly) female carers on a low wage.

Posted 20 May 2007 20:11 | Number of comments: 8 | Comments

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Home working: 10 drawbacks

Much as I hate to use this dreadful terminology, I joined the ranks of 'WAHMs', or 'Work at Home Mums', when Katie reached ten months. Before that I was a full-time 'SAHM' (Stay at Home Mum), though I didn't even know it at the time - it's only since I got back to work and had a chance to waste time browsing the net I found out all these new terms. The first six months looking after Katie I didn't miss work at all. Then my friends starting going back to work, one by one, and I got lonely.

Often when I'm talking to people about my work (journalism), they say something encouraging about how it must be easy to do that from home, combining it with looking after the baby. Well, it's not.

In my experience, the reality is that homeworking is really only for people with iron self-discipline, who are motivated and well-organised and aware of the drawbacks as well as the benefits. I am not one of those people.

Listed below are some of the things to bear in mind if you're thinking of becoming a work-at-home-parent. Most are based on personal experience, some from talking with other parents who live, work, eat and sleep in the same small flat.

Today I've written about some of the disadvantages to being a 'WAHM'.

It's not all doom and gloom. There are very real upsides to working this way. Please visit the site tomorrow, to read about the benefits to young parents of working this way.

DRAWBACKS TO BEING A 'WAHM'

1. Don't be deceived into thinking you'll spend more time with your children this way.

You won't. You still have to organise proper childcare for them. Anything else, and you're shortchanging yourself, your clients and them.

2. Home-based childcare will make it impossible to focus on your work

If you choose home-based childcare (for example Granny or childminder coming to your home), you'll find it hard to knuckle down while your children are playing next door.

3. Sleepy head. Just had lunch? Feeling like a little nap?

I'll put my head down for ten minutes. Oops. The afternoon just slid away again. All those hours gone, taken up with what was meant to be a short snooze. And no work to show for it at the end.

4. You may think you're only working two days, but will your clients and contacts?

Once, an all-important contact I was chasing like mad at the start of the week called back unexpectedly a few days later at the nadir, nay, the very trough of my day - Katie's supper-time.

6. You get landed with most of the housework

I'm really lucky in that my husband more than pulls his weight around the house. But being at home all day, I still end up loading, unloading dishwashers, vacuuming, cleaning away dishes, wiping worktops, and doing the endless laundry. As soon as I've done it, it all needs doing again. And it's so very, very dull.

7. Lack of company

It's lonely, being at home on my own all day. Chatting to the postman and the old lady two doors down doesn't fill the gap. Even my husband starts winding up phone conversations after ten or 15 minutes. It's why I've turned to blogging. You start to fall behind professionally, as well, if you're not in offices where you can keep up with latest ways of doing things.

8. You've got to have real self-discipline to get through the work

Otherwise the lure of the biscuit tin will get me every time. I falter and stumble, but have to keep things together because I need the work.

9. I can't appreciate my home anymore, it's also my place of work

I spend too much time here. I notice every piece of dirt, every crumb. I need to go on holiday before I can enjoy where I live again. Home's stopped being a retreat.

10. It's hard to draw a line under the end of each day.

Is it obsessive-compulsive to check emails at midnight?

Posted 08 May 2007 12:18 | Number of comments: 2 | Comments

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More on childcare options... today, Granny to the rescue

As I mentioned in an earlier posting, apparently "have-it-all" mums are shunning nurseries that could damage their children's development and staying home to look after their kids. Ideally, of course, some newspapers would rather we women spent our entire reproductive years pregnant and/or barefoot in the kitchen.

Given we live in a less-than-ideal world, in which many of us do some sort of balancing act between work and family, while trying our utmost to do the best for our children, I've decided to write some more about the childcare options available to working mums, or at least my personal experience of them.

Today, Granny to the rescue.

Granny often looks after my daughter one or two days a week while I work, sometimes at home, other times in an office. The arrangement generally works well for all concerned, with big benefits all round. My daughter also goes to nursery twice weekly.

Things to know about childcare from Granny

1. Parenting takes stamina - lots of it - and grandparents tire easily

Granny would never admit this, but she is shattered by the end of a day chasing after her beloved grandaughter. I only found out how bad it was when I rang her one evening around 8.30pm after she'd gone home from a day looking after K, only for my father to tell me she'd gone to bed "early". I felt terrible.

2. Your child can do NO wrong in Granny's eyes

My daughter has filched Granny's OAP bus pass while rifling through her handbag, somehow lost her mobile, and scrunched up precious family photos Granny carries everywhere in her Sudoko book. Does Granny care?

3. Seeing the bond develop between Granny and K - heart-warming

K kicks her legs with delight when she sees Granny coming up the stairs to see her, while Granny's had a new lease of life since K arrived 13 months ago. They get on extremely well and it's been one of the best things about having a child, seeing the bond between them strengthen and grow.

4. K's biscuit consumption increases while Granny is around. So does mine.

Granny believes a little treat now and then never hurt anyone.

5. Like any veteran of terry towelling, Granny believes in 10 or 12 daily nappy changes

Don't suppose it can do any harm. Granny often brings round packs of nappies. "Bulky for you to carry!" she says. "Let me bring these over in the car."

6. Limited interaction for K with other babies - or "tweenies"

But lots of admiration from the other old ladies Granny seems to meet while out and about buying biscuits. Doesn't matter so much to us, because K is with other children at nursery twice weekly.

7. Hard to concentrate while working at home if K and Granny larking about in kitchen, often playing "Let's empty Granny's handbag".

It always sounds like so much fun in the kitchen, I get distracted. Not difficult, admittedly, given my scatter-brain head. Usually, they end up going for a walk. In which they stop off at the shops to buy, guess what? More biscuits.

8. The voice of experience.

In terms of childcare, Granny's been there, done it, and got two adult children to prove it.

Okay, her generation doesn't have our hang-ups about organic food, breastfeeding and Gina Ford. They did things differently, for example parking their babies at the bottom of the garden.

They didn't have post-natal groups for support and company; their men weren't expected to help out like our partners do, and they seem to have spent all day washing nappies years before anyone got extra brownie points for being environmentally friendly with "real" nappies.

But the fact is, Granny knows what she's doing when it comes to looking after a small child.

9. My daughter gets one-to-one attention, all day long, from someone who loves her

Which is both good, and maybe not-so-good, depending on which survey you read at the time.

10. Nursery get exasperated if I keep bothering them to check K's okay.

Whereas Granny and K will happily blow bubbles and coo down the phone, (yes, both of them) whenever I call home. Just as long as it's not on Granny's mobile, (please see No. 2).

11. In a crisis, Granny'll drop everything, even the golf championship match where she's hoping to improve her handicap, and come round to help

When my husband and I were both ill over Christmas (remember the Winter Vomiting Virus?) she helped out - big time.

12. Granny would never expect remuneration for all the work she does

She does it out of love. Err, maybe that's cheesy, but it's kind of how it is.

Posted 05 May 2007 18:25 | Number of comments: 1 | Comments

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Pros and cons of nursery life

Having spent the last few days fuming at stories about greedy 'have-it-all' mothers repenting their wicked career-minded ways by shunning nurseries and staying home to look after their kids, here are some of my thoughts on the pros and cons of nurseries, based on personal experience.

PROS

Making switch from bottle to breast

It was nursery staff who first persuaded my daughter, then aged 10 months, to take a bottle, something I'd been trying for weeks, with no success. Since then she hasn't looked back. I was beginning to fear I'd be breastfeeding at the school gates. Thanks to that breakthrough, people have now stopped saying things like: "Did you see that programme on extraordinary breastfeeding?"

Healthy balanced diet

At home, K survives on a diet of porridge, apple puree and biscuits. Believe me, it's not for lack of trying on my part. I have my Annabel Karmel cookbook and I'm not afraid to use it. But I cook up spaghetti bolognaise, fish pasta and cauliflower cheese in vain. Even my old stand-by of sweet potato and chicken is out of favour. However, the nursery staff can get her to eat chicken papaya, no less. I've been asking for tips on how they do it.

Keener to walk

Don't know if peer group pressure is altogether a good thing, but it seems to me that since K has seen other children about her age, or a bit older, starting to toddle, she's keener to do the same.

CONS

These probably reflect my shortcomings as much as the nursery's, but here goes:

Separation anxiety (mine, not hers)

I haven't quite come to terms yet with my daughter being pushed around the streets of Edinburgh, in the nursery's three-seater buggies, by someone other than me. The thought I might bump into her out on a walk at lunchtime is wierd.

She's comes home smelling of someone else's perfume.

Disconcerting. I get a bit jealous. But I also take this as a positive, since it means that she must be getting lots of cuddles.

It's painful to be disabused of fantasy everyone loves K as much as me

Almost all the people who look after her at nursery are fond of her. Everyone is well-disposed to her. Nobody, strangely, seems aware of how special and wonderful she is.

Picking up bad habits

No long after starting nursery K started sucking thoughtfully on pieces of toast, before allowing them to slither out her mouth and down onto her front, where they linger, transformed into repellant brown slugs. Could never prove it, but suspect it's a lark she first saw at nursery.

Hotbed of germs

Babies pick up every bug going as soon as they start at nursery.

You can't get the days or times you necessarily want

Which seems to contradict the story about all these empty nursery places left vacant by repentant career women.

Posted 02 May 2007 11:04 | Number of comments: 3 | Comments

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Have it all? Do it all, more like

Another day, another childcare survey that may upset many mothers. "The first evidence of an end to the 'have-it-all' generation of women emerges today," reports The Times, with unmistakable glee in Nurseries feel pinch as mothers stay home.

You can almost hear the unspoken agenda: "Greedy cows, thinking they can be mums and have paid jobs. This'll show 'em."

The so-called "evidence" of the end to greedy 'have-it-alls' is that almost a quarter of UK nursery places are vacant, as women take up their "right to request" part-time work after having a child.

According to the paper, one reason for the vacancies is that more women are staying at home longer to look after their children themselves, instead of putting them into nursery.

It says another reason is a government report warning that putting children in full-time nursery care can make them anti-social and anxious.

In fact, the real reason so many nursery places are empty has nothing to do with women seeing the light and repenting of their bad mothering. It’s a matter of simple maths. Available nursery places have nearly doubled since 2002, from 424,900 to 725,115, with demand overanticipated.

You could also argue that what the statistics actually tell us is that women don't aspire to "have it all" and never did. Empty nursery places could mean thoughtful employment legislation with more flexible working hours and longer maternity leave is beginning to take effect.

Now we've got the chance to stay at home longer, that's what many of us are doing. Only 7% of children in daycare are now under a year old. Women have, rightly, got better financial support in staying at home to look after their kids, and that's what many of us are choosing to do. We didn't go to work to "have it all”, we did it because our families needed the income.

To go by that phrase "have-it-all", you'd think a bunch of empty-headed fun-seekers in Ibiza had got their come-uppance. Anybody who's actually combined looking after a small child and working knows the lifestyle is far from hedonistic, it's demanding and unforgiving.

As a part-timer, which many working mothers are, you're on the margins, with less responsibility and poorer promotion prospects. Senior part-time jobs are like gold dust in many industries.

Of course, someone screwing up the estimates for nursery place numbers doesn’t make quite such a good story and The Times dwells instead on that government report into the evils of nursery care.

The paper says: "A government evaluation of nurseries found that toddlers spending more than seven hours a day in daycare were more likely to be bossy, tease other children, stamp their feet and get anxious when toys and refreshments were handed round." Hello? Have the authors ever been around small children? Has anyone ever met a toddler who didn’t fit that description?

The worst-behaved child I've ever met spent his first four years glued to the side of his overly doting mother, who honestly couldn't see that he (and she) needed help. This little terror never set foot in a nursery.

Relatives and friends used to avoid this little boy, they were so scared of him. Now he's at school and learning the hard way how to interact with others, with frequent detentions and threats of expulsion. It's a lesson he might have learnt sooner and more easily at nursery, among other people.

Funnily enough, newspapers don’t focus on that side of the story, possibly because it doesn’t have the “feel-bad” factor all mothering stories seem to need.

'Have-it-all' generation, indeed. 'Do-it-all', more like.

Posted 01 May 2007 10:42 | Number of comments: 1 | Comments

Nursery Work

Adrift in a sea of gloop

Katy gazes at the sea of cold green pasta stretching out before her and turns to give me a look that seems to say: "You must be joking if you think I'm eating this". She looks worried, unsure she'll be able to prevail, that maternal force majeure will compel her to perform the hideous task of swallowing this nastiness down.

Katy prefers her food orange (sweet potato, carrot, squash all top favourites), or beige (apple puree, "pairritch") - and she's indicated in no uncertain terms that both are more palatable warm. She'll tolerate spaghetti bolognaise in small quantities or a pink Petit Filou. Avocado - both the wrong colour and temperature - is a no-no.

Inside the pasta sea small fluorescent monsters are swimming. One has a long black hair wrapped around a tentacle. My stomach turns. But another little baby grabs at the baby-sized serving spoon adrift in the pasta and pushes at it. The fun begins. Katy holds back a while longer, watches and then finally starts to copy, relief visible on her face that this is just another bit of grown-up silliness she can laugh along with at no cost to herself.

The Mucky Munchkins class works on the basis that they let babies smear themselves in as much pasta, gloop and non-toxic paint as they want, then someone else clears it all up afterwards. When they say mucky, they ain't lying. Next to the pasta is a washing-up bowl filled near the brim with what looks to be vomit - a substance I've had enough experience with already this week, thank you very much - again peopled with monsters. Mess is what we're here for, I have to keep reminding myself.

I've been trying to kid myself we're doing this entirely for Katy, but the truth is that after starting back to work two days a week or so in January I've been lonely and out of sorts on the days I do look after her. However little I have in common with the other mums here, Mucky Munchkins is at least some kind of landmark we can organise the day around, an escape from the long, formless slump of home life, with the promise of some adult conversation.

So here we are, Katy covered in yellow porridge in a room at the local library, me twittering nervously about whether she can eat the gloop in safety. We move on to finger paintings, with me encouraging Katy to daub cut-out shamrock (a nod to St Patrick's Day next week) and rainbow shapes.

Come the end of the class, I want to find the shapes she "painted" and pick up a rainbow that looks like it might have been hers. Another mother clears her throat. It's clear I'm about commit some solecism. It turns out to be the work of her offspring, or so she says. "We're taking that home to show Daddy, aren't we?" I'm no longer sure which painting is ours. Bless them, but the babies haven't yet discovered a distinctive style and one besmeared shamrock looks very much like another.

Briefly, I consider forgetting the paintings and keeping Katy's vest as our memento of the morning - installation art for infants, if you like - since it's got more paint on it than any of the paintings. Nah. Too bizarre. Then I spot a shamrock that looks like it might be ours. Phew.

The woman running the classes wants to take it from me to lay it out to dry with the others but after my run-in with the other mum I'm taking no chances and hug it to me protectively. This might not be top-end office politics, but on the mums-and-babies circuit you do get a few opportunities to stretch yourself. I wrap the shamrock, lopsided from undried lumps of orange paint, in a binliner and pop it in my rucksack.

Posted 09 March 2007 18:18 | Number of comments: 0 | Comments

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