Returning to workforce

As I write this, I have just wrapped up my first week back at work after a year’s maternity leave with my second (and last) baby.

And it’s been great.

It’s been great seeing my colleagues and getting myself reacquainted with all the work that’s happening. It’s been great being myself again, and actually having time by myself on the train or on my lunch break. Even having some time to focus on work without also keeping an eye on the kids so the baby doesn’t eat a book (a real possibility) has felt like a luxury.

It’s also been great seeing my 5-year-old excited about going to the childminder’s after school and playing with other children, eating new foods, and then buzzing about his day as we walk home together. It’s been great seeing my one-year-old bonding with other babies and the staff at his nursery, and then coming to pick him up and give him loads of kisses and cuddles, all the sweeter for the time we spent apart.

And I’ve thought, “This is how a return to work should be.”

But it is a million miles away from my first return to work, which was a disaster that marked the beginning of one of my unhappiest periods of work life.

So what’s made the difference? There’s some luck involved, but there’s also a few things I can’t help but think have made the difference between miserably job hunting after work and looking forward to Monday. Continue reading “Returning to workforce”

Transformational pain

Today I’ve been feeling the full weight of endings.

The weather here in London has taken a sudden turn towards autumn, breaking crisp and cool this morning. As I walked my son to school, holding his hand in one hand and his bags in the other, with my baby in the carrier, it hit me: this is my last full week of a typical maternity leave. Next week, the baby (probably more a toddler now) starts settling in at nursery. Continue reading “Transformational pain”

This is it

I caught myself the other day thinking, “Once ______ happens…” or “When _____, things will be easier.” The present moment can sometimes feel like the moment waiting in the wings, about to go on stage.

But hang on, I realised. This is it.

This is my life. It’s not a practice round for the real life that lies ahead. And waiting around the corner isn’t some utopia that answers any of the niggles of my present predicament. Continue reading “This is it”