It’s hard to fit everything into the working day: morning rush, getting kids ready for school, getting self in somewhat presentable state for work, long commute catching up on e-mails and texts, work for eight hours, sort out optician appointments for kids, do online groceries or submit health insurance claims if
It’s Good Friday, and I haven’t thought about work once today – I love that. We took the kids to Powerscourt House and Gardens – well OK, the House followed by an “adventure” exploring the trees and grass verges on the way back to the car, via the garden centre.
We woke one morning last week to the news that new Personal Insolvency Guidelines would mean people would be asked to cut out Sky Sports packages, stick to one foreign holiday per year, take the kids out of private school and get rid of that expensive second car. It was
Today I was chatting to a friend who is a mum of two small children and works a three day week. She job-shares, but the person with whom she shares is leaving her role. My friend’s company are not hiring anyone to replace this position, and she has been told
Last night I wrote my first blog post, about the challenges facing working mums, and the universe subsequently laughed at me, in a “you ain’t seen nothing yet” kind of way, then unleashed a properly challenging day on this working mum: My baby was up from 3am onwards, feeding like a newborn,
It’s after midnight, and like any mum whose baby wakes somewhere between 1am and 5am, I’m tucked up in bed, fast asleep, getting some precious zzz’s in before it all kicks off. Except of course I’m not – I’m sitting up watching tv, finishing a glass of wine, and tapping out