My holiday job

Yesterday morning, just as he was leaving to go to school, Tom turned to me with a quizzical look and asked, ‘Mum, how come we all have to go back to school and Dad to work and you get to stay on holiday?’


I was rather amused.  So I asked him, since leaving holiday, who had filled the fridge and washed all his clothes?  ‘Daddy was his answer!  So I asked who picked him up from school… ‘Daddy, he said with a cheeky grin.  I said that my ‘job’ was to look after him, Willy, Daddy, the house and our family.


But you dont get paid, so how can that be a job?’


My answer to that was that there are some jobs you do for more than money. You do it for satisfaction and enjoyment.  But most of all, you do it for the love of the ‘job’.


I may have been outwardly confident, but there was a little voice in the back of my mind that wasn’t.  My thoughts of being not enough, wasting all that talent!


But the voice was small, and after 4 years, I am now loud enough to squash those damning voices, with other words.  Reminders of why I made the choice to be a housewife and full time mother rather than sat behind a desk, ill with stress, too tired for romance or to listen and guilt stricken for missing out on my son’s life, even more, my life!


But perhaps, the niggling thought lingered a while yesterday and added a little to the storm and discomfort I felt.


Today, I was so grateful for my ‘holiday job’.


I got to see everyone happy having nailed a Willy tantrum-free peaceful morning …. (for egg and bacon he had to be fully dressed and ready!)

I got to sit with the Big Man while he ate his omelette and give him my 2 ears and full attention.

I got to wave everyone off, well fed, happy and skipping.

I got to do some simple mind and body exercises and read my book, my time to practice self compassion and fill up my cup.

I got to listen to music and dance as I  filled the washing machine and unfilled the dish washer.

I got to catch up on my trash TV series as I did a pile of holiday washing for two hours.

I got to organize birthday presents and have my nails done in preperation for important occasion this weekend.

I got to listen to Brene Brown  as I drove an hour to watch an U9’s cricket match.

I got to hide behind a bush and shelter from the wind and admire my son’s flowing bowling action and feel immense pride.

I got to jump and shout as he hit a 6 to take them to a close finish, and commiserate as it left them just a few points short of a win.

I got to hold his hand in the car and head bang to Thunderstruck and sing loud to California Dreaming.

I got to be in a Mummy sandwich as we pilled on Willy and blew raspberries on his cheeks to make him giggle.

I got to smile as the Big Man walked in the door and spend a moment or two in his embrace, without reaching for a blackberry or thinking of anything but the moment.


Yes I get paid nothing, but I have a job that makes me feel as good on being holiday!


I’ll take that.



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