A dream in progress

At the moment I am living a dream. It's obviously not the dream where I attend The Wedding because sadly that time has passed. It's also not the dream where Mr G and I win the lottery and employ a butler and a driver to ensure the cogs of our daily life are perfectly oiled. But it is a dream nonetheless. It is the dream where I have a baby as well as a job. To some I realise that might sound like a nightmare. For me, being a working mother, is a dream.

I don't say this to gloat so please bear with me. Over the past decade I've spent a good number of minutes thinking and talking about combining a career with a family. Like many women my age, I've invested a lot of time and energy into creating a professional life. I've also always wanted to start my own family and have children. I often wondered - and more often worried - how those two worlds would collide. When I now reflect that they have, I want to pinch myself. Not just because they've collided but because the result is more satisfying than I imagined.

I feel the need to type very carefully at this point. I realise that for many parents, not working is their preference which I absolutely respect. I don't think that working or not working, makes anyone a better or worse parent. I think the best any of us can do, is whatever works best for us as individuals and families. My experience is exactly that - what works for me and my family. And right now, it's a dream in progress.

 I like work itself more than I ever have and I treasure my time with Miss I more than ever before. My priorities have obviously changed and I guess partly because work isn't everything I can enjoy it more. And in some ways the same goes with my daughter. Because I don't do either of them one hundred per cent of the time, I'm free to appreciate each of them - differently - in their glory. Combining motherhood with work seems to give me better perspective on a daily basis. Compared to the health and wellbeing of my daughter, work doesn't rate but I'm also completely aware of the valuable and fulfilling role work plays in my life. I love going into work and I love collecting Miss I at the end of each work day.

There are days where I don't feel this way. Where work is stressful. Where I don't want to tear out the door or race to the bus. But for the most part I love doing both. There are definitely caveats though. I'm not sure I would enjoy this balance if I worked in a corporate role which demanded long hours. Or if I worked five days, or if I didn't enjoy my job itself, or if I didn't work with other parents who understood the realities of young children. Or if Miss I wasn't settled and happy at her daycare. There are numerous factors that make it work for me. My point is it can work and it can be satisfying.

Last week a friend at work who doesn't have any children yet said to me that a lot she hears and reads about motherhood sounds utterly terrifying. I immediately gave her a blow by blow account of my childbirth experience to illustrate that, in fact, some of it is even more terrifying than it sounds. Of course I didn't really say that. I understood what she meant. I tried to explain that wonderful cliché that the good bits are so overwhelming rewarding and life affirming, that it really does make the difficult moments and days tolerable. She smiled but her eyes gave away her fear.

It made me stop and think about my situation. I think we do ourselves, our friends and our families, a great disservice by painting motherhood as one big, long, soft and cuddly advertisement. But equally I think we do ourselves just as few favours by painting it as an impossibly hard slog. I realise my life might seem wholly unenviable to a great number of mothers and fathers. But for anyone who wants or needs to work, I suppose I hope it might give hope that it need not be a nightmare.