WHY I QUIT MY JOB (& THE JUGGLE) WHEN MY KIDS STARTED SCHOOL

When I was growing-up the majority of kids at school were being raised my stay-at-home Mum’s or ‘housewives’ as they were known 80’s/90’s (gah what an adequated sounding title). Yet when this list came through, I was surprised to find myself taken aback at the principle of someone quitting their career once their kids had started school. Not because I have any kind of judgement, but because it’s increasingly unusual. But then when I went on to read Laura Barnett’s submission I found the ‘struggle to juggle’ which lead to her decison very relatable.

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On reflection I guess I’ve always done things in an unconventional way, which bemuses a lot of people, prompts an array of questions, and (sshhh) even annoys me a little sometimes. It would have been a lot easier to have had a plan at 16 and just stuck to it, but that just isn’t me, and it’s taken me 38 years to realise that. 

In a nutshell, I went back to work following statutory maternity leave after having both of my babies, when they were both just 9 months old. Then, when my youngest was finally and firmly at school full-time (no more huge childcare bills – yay!) I quit my career…

• There are two years between my boys, who are now 7 & 9.

• I took statutory maternity leave from my career working in creative marketing, going back to work after 9 months off each time.

• When they were teeny (babies and toddlers), I personally found it easier to work – less guilt, easier to find childcare, we could have fun at the weekends, right? I was tired but everything was good. I could pretend I was still that 20-something career minded woman I so loved being!

• I had been working for the same company for a while and when my children were 4 and 6, I found a new, higher pressured but ‘perfect-on-paper-for-a-childless-me’ creative marketing role, pretty much as my youngest walked though those school gates for the very first time.

• I mean, they were both at Primary School now, I was practically a free woman wasn’t I?

• I LOVED that job, it was creative, fun, very fast-paced and I worked with a cool bunch (albeit mainly younger & childless).

• My husband had a demanding job and worked away a lot, but hey, this was 2015, we could both have careers couldn’t we?

• I worked hard, and played hard. Just like I did when I was younger.

• This felt great. I was smashing it.

• I rushed around. Dropping the kids off. Doing the homework. Going to meetings. Booking the children into clubs. Doing the food shopping. Travelling to photoshoots. Packing and unpacking the dishwasher. Arranging work events overseas. Ordering school uniforms. Cleaning the house. Preparing marketing reports. Visiting family and friends. Picking the kids up. Entertaining work clients.Washing the bedsheets. Going to marketing budget meetings. Arranging playdates. Planning kids Birthday parties. Devising marketing plans. Paying bills. Proof reading marketing materials. Doing life admin, etc.

• After a year or so I suddenly realised I wasn’t sleeping very well.

• I also realised my feelings about almost everything had evaporated.

• I was just doing.

• Other women made it look easy, why couldn’t I?

• My home life started falling apart.

• I was sinking into a deep dark hole of feeling useless at work and at home.

• I didn’t know what topics my kids were doing at school. That made me sad.

• I didn’t know if I was coming or going.

• I would check my work emails constantly. At mealtimes. At the Dr’s. On the loo.

• I would rush the kids through their homework at breakfast time.

•  I had no time to read with them.

• In fact, I had no time to read at all.

• I rarely finished a conversation.

• When I was at work, I thought about home.

• When I was at home, I thought about work.

• Communication between my husband and I was scarce, and mainly about putting the bins out and that all-important argument over who was more tired.

• In fact, I couldn’t even tell you what he was doing during this time, I was just busy trying to keep myself and the children above water.

•  In the most British and swan-like manner. Naturally.

• I actually thought I was losing my tiny mind at one point. Everything felt out of my control, and the lights were on but no-one (not even one exhausted trying-to-have-it-all Mummy) was at home.

• We decided to go on a one week holiday in the sunshine. That would fix everything, surely.

• The pressure I felt before I left the office just to enable me to have one week on a sun lounger was so immense I thought I would burst.

• I cried all the way home that evening.

• I felt like a failure.

• In fact I realised I had been crying driving home regularly. It was the only time I was alone and able to let go.

• Those commutes became pretty rubbish.

• We packed in a hurry, and rushed to the airport, and forgot to pack a lot of things, but who cared? We didn’t have time to care, we could buy the rest there couldn’t we.

• We had a relaxing week in the sun, we ate, drank, chatted, and even relaxed momentarily, all four of us. At the same time. The kids were happy, something I hadn’t taken the time to notice for ages. But my mind kept drifting back to work, and life, and managing the two simultaneously on our return.

• I got back to work and had what felt like a million emails to respond to.

•  I know this isn’t unusual, but I simply didn’t know where to start, so I just sat and stared at them. For hours.

• And this life continued, and the kids were once again neglected of my time…

• I suddenly ALWAYS felt so guilty and just craved being with the children, a feeling which I had never truly experienced before this point.

• It was at that time I had either a moment of madness or clarity.

• Something had to give; my career, my sanity, or my family.

• Me and my husband discussed (at 6am before he left for work one morning) whether we could survive on one salary for a period of time.

• We hatched a vague plan (just after he’d brought the bins in late that night), and we figured if we were careful, it would be ok.

•  I was desperate to organise my life, my head, even my kitchen cupboards. I know that last bit sounds ridiculous!

• I had an emotional meeting at work and told them, to my regret, that I would be resigning in order to hang out with my kids for the foreseeable.

• •A job I had worked pretty hard to get, just jacking it in. Madness?

• More guilt. A different type now.

• They tried to work out a way for me to stay.

• My decision was final. I needed to spend some time with my children.

• I worked my notice and had a fabulous leaving do. I instantly felt lighter, but also a little scared of the unknown ahead of me!

• I was lucky to be able to take the next 6 months off, spending an amazing summer with my babies (then 5 and 7) and genuinely enjoy them. Something I hadn’t done before.

• I got used to living on less money.

• In fact I actually spent much less because I was not throwing convenience and guilt money at things. I took the time to source cheaper items when needed, and even had time to do fun, normal things, rather than cram in OTT expensive activities on my day off.

• The kids were brilliant, not in a smug way, they obviously drove me mad regularly. They scrapped and made a lot of mess, but I embraced it. I could handle it.

• I helped out at my children’s school on a voluntary basis. I (surprisingly) found it fun, rewarding and eye-opening.

• I took up yoga and actually found time to exercise (a bit – please don’t get me wrong, I am not destined to be a gym bunny).

• I looked around me more.

• I had conversations.

• I listened to my children.

• I made new friends.

• I made time for old friends.

• I managed to organise my kitchen cupboards. Somehow symbolic!

• I totally slowed down my pace of life, my responses, and my diary. I got my shit together.

• I knew I couldn’t be at home forever (both because my domestic skills are sketchy, at best! But also I enjoy working)

• I decided to seek work that fitted more around my children.

• I found a job working with kids, term time only, and one that allowed me to truly switch off at the end of the day.

• Two years in, and it is less pressure, without a doubt, and I certainly won’t make my millions this way, but I give it my all when I’m there and enjoy it, and then (importantly) I go home.

• Working with children has made me realise that no two days are the same and it’s refreshing, and a completely different way of life from what I was used to. But it can also be a lot of fun!

• People constantly ask me if I feel fulfilled. I am fine for now. Thanks for asking.

•  People ask why I worked a lot when my children were babies and now I work less?

• That’s just how things have panned out for me. What can I say? I enjoyed paying extortionate prices for other people to look after my offspring!

• People enquire whether I miss using my brain. My brain is being used, constantly. Thanks for your concern though.

• People ask me if I miss the money. Of course it’s helpful, but I can’t put a price on my sanity.

• Some people even ask whether I regret getting a degree all those years ago, to now not be using it. I don’t live my life like that. I still look at brands, websites and campaigns like I work in that world, it’s kind of ingrained in me. But I don’t sweat my LinkedIn profile too much these days.

• Don’t get me wrong,  I do sometimes get a little pang of envy when I see a Mum who has a high-flying career and is totally bossing it.

• But it is short-lived, as I know, at this moment in time, that that would not work for my family dynamic.

• I do miss the hectic world of creative marketing sometimes, and I will probably work that into my life at some point, if and when the opportunity arises, but at this very moment, this is me.

• I might change my mind one day and re-train to do something completely different.

• I might start my own business at some point.

• I have even threatened to run away to join the circus, but I think that is just a pipe dream!

• Do I regret any of my decisions? Not one bit.

• •       If anything, I want to teach my children that they don’t have to do things in a particular order to be happy. Things don’t always go to plan, and that’s ok. You live and you learn.

• •       For the record, my boys still scrap and make a mess, and I still cock up on a monumental scale regularly, but I can cope with it.

• •       I certainly do not have the perfect balance, and I’m pretty convinced that such a thing doesn’t exist.

• But what I do have is more patience, more time, and a clearer head. For now.

• •       We’ve recently been told that our youngest has some learning disorders. Admittedly not the end of the world, but there you have it: a problem that hits you at full speed,unexpectedly, another area that will need my time and attention – something that I feel lucky to be able to give right now.