Network problems, or levelling the playing field

We had a party, but I didn’t feel much like celebrating. I went through the motions, icing a cake for Tom with Jonah (inspired by Minecraft), cleaning the house (only to have to re-clean it again afterwards), inviting, at the last minute, a bunch of school mums only to regret a house full of kids tearing up the place, keeping my two up till late. I drank a lot, without getting jolly and slunk off to bed past 1am, leaving Tom and reprobate Kate to their spoils. I woke up at 3.00 and didn’t go back to sleep. My body is in flight or fight mode and alcohol poured off me as I tossed and turned, heart thumping, brain whirring. I don’t like uncertainty, so though I have more opportunity to rest right now, my mind just won’t play ball.

In the morning, Jonah, also wired from lack of sleep, was fragile and stropping. Kate, whose daughter Lola had spent the night on our kids’ floor, saw him at his unregulated worst and for the first time in eight years, acknowledged that perhaps I was right to protect him from late nights and junk food for the most part. It stands as validation against the “friend” who told me once – in front of Jonah – that I was mean not to let him have a sleepover; that I never let him have any fun. She doesn’t have to deal with the fallout, although her own son’s poor behaviour is often attributable to both. I don’t need to add either to the mix of Jonah’s own particular demons to suffer severe consequences.

It was worth it, though, taking the time to socialise with parents of kids in Jonah’s class. Since being off the mum circuit, he’s had more than one run in with a group of boys who hang out together after school. Trying to break into that group, but not quite knowing how, it’s extra hard on him that they hang out at each others’ houses, and go to Legoland together because their mums network when they pick them up from school.

The only way to deal with it is to strengthen bonds without criticism, but until now I haven’t had the time. Taking Jonah to the playground after school means he can form loyalties making dens and playing football. It’s harder to pick on someone who’s scored a winning goal or climbed the same tree. Taking the time for a natter with their mums leads to drinks and a playdate. This is how I can make it easier for him, rather than having stern words with the culprits on the fly. But it’s this sort of social lubrication that no one recognises as vital part of a mother’s role: another little job that we do for no thanks, no payment and no recognition, however much of a chore we may find it, like picking up socks and emptying the dishwasher –  now very much in my remit now I am at home during the day, along with fielding recruiters and sprucing up my CV.

Tomorrow’s tube strike has scuppered an interview I had scheduled. It’s on the opposite side of London, and even on a good day, the commute will be tricky. The recruiter seemed annoyed that I wasn’t prepared to put in more effort, to negotiate three hours of buses or risk my life on the roads, and when she rescheduled, she made it so early I will have to find childcare to take the kids to school. She didn’t seem to compute that it’s one thing dragging the kids to breakfast club when you’re being paid for it; quite another to do it for a job you don’t think you’ll get. At least I will be able to go on Ava’s school trip, like I promised her last week.

I’m not going to find the perfect job the first week of trying. But keeping the wolf from the door doesn’t allow me the luxury of dithering. Ideally I would freelance. I’m self motivated and can achieve a lot – on my own terms. I abhor time wasting and can’t bear office politics. I can’t be bothered to get involved in all the networking that sees you “get on” at a traditional workplace. I just want to do my work – and go. If only it were that easy. Presenteeism is rife in most offices, among those who have the time, putting those of us who have school drop-offs, parents’ evenings, washing and cooking for more than ourselves at a significant disadvantage. But finding the leads and sniffing out jobs takes time and energy that no one will pay for, so either way, it will be a compromise.

Getting the best of both worlds in a working world that seems only to enable you to work too much or not enough, is perhaps asking too much. If only the working day was capped so everyone had a fair shot and a level play field; the chance to earn a decent wage rather than leaving the few with too much money and too little time, and the many vice versa.

In the meantime I just need to stay motivated, keep searching and hope for the best.