The Motherhood Penalty

It has come to my attention that The Motherhood Penalty is an actual thing.

There was me thinking I was the only one struggling with being made redundant on maternity leave and struggling to find a career to suit me now. The thing is, it isn’t just me. The Motherhood Penalty is REAL. We’re talking real pay gaps for mums in comparison to a non- parent counter parts, less promotion opportunities, held to higher punctuality standards than others. We are less likely to be suggested for hire than a less qualified woman without children. Just have a read at a few stats here (http://gap.hks.harvard.edu/getting-job-there-motherhood-penalty). Before you start, I know this article is full of American stats; but it is applicable for the UK and most likely a bunch of other countries too. There are plenty of other articles on the subject too. Read them, I implore you.

The last time I was made redundant I was in a new role within two weeks. This time, I’m 3 years more experienced. This time, I’m a mum. This time, it’s almost been a month already. As a society, it is our job to change this. As a mother who wants it all, it’s my job to hunt what I want down. Why should we settle for less than our counter parts? Those who choose to be dog owners are not penalised for their life choice, yet you have a child and that’s it. You certainly can’t have a career AND a family. You most certainly can’t do them both at the same time, let alone do them well. You must pick. You must pick one or the other. You can only be good at one thing – Family OR work.

That’s where I’m saying it needs to change. We are stuck in an archaic time. The stay at home mum suffers prejudice. It can be seen as old fashioned, lazy, and unattractive. “Gain a baby, lose a brain” this attitude spills out on to the mother who wants or needs to work, making it increasingly difficult to get back in to work. On the other hand, mothers who choose to have a career are classified as uncaring, lacking maternal instinct and cold. Working mothers have it hard. The guilt of having to pay someone else to help raise their child. Then there is the pay gap between them and their childfree counterparts, not to mention the problem of sourcing reliable and trustworthy childcare.

We have come so far with equality yet we are still stuck with The Motherhood Penalty. For some reason the work world thinks that us mum’s supposedly stray from competency after birthing a child. In actual fact we gain a whole lot more than we ‘lose’ (the only think I lost is my size 6-8 waist). We go through the most incredible process of carrying, giving birth, feeding and caring for a new born infant that relies on us for everything. There are sleepless nights and long busy days that follow including numerous visitors who want to put their grubby hands all over that precious new born, which you in turn have to politely but firmly warn off (which is a new skill gained for a start).

Mums are the most amazing creatures on this planet; and it’s about time that companies realise that if we choose a child adorned life, we probably have more to offer after having our child/children than we did before. We are peacekeepers, cooks, cleaners, mediators, matriarchs, admin assistants, PA’s, nurses (in the most relaxed sense of the word), transportation co-ordinators, activity planners, risk assessors, the photographer, the personal shopper and stylist, the confidante, the politician, the dietician, the CEO and the fucking skivvy. We are the whole god damn package, and some of us even stay up late to work on our passions too.

So keep up work world; we’re ready for equality amongst mothers in the work place. Let’s hope my new role (whatever it maybe) is up to speed.

Confident Kisses,

XOXO, L

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PMSing. Hard!

Bloating – check

Weight gain due to fluid retention (and bloating) – check

Appetite disruptions – check (double check if you count wanting to eat the content on the house and then not wanting to eat at all)

Headaches – check

Boobache – check

Mood swing – check

Anger fuse – what effing fuse? I mean, check.

So here it is, the raw honest truth about massively PMSing. I’m not normally a sufferer, but I want to rip out somebody’s throat today.

How the he’ll can’t you gain 4lbs since yesterday body? It’s certainly not funny. So now you’ve got me (well a combo of you bloated self doubtingness, and man) waiting for Chinese deliver and it’s after 10pm.

I’m so unbelievably angry for no reason, at everything it’s funny. Or at least it will be, when I’ve bled out for 5 days not died and slept. Now I’m a little less angry because the gin kicked in. Another thing I blame bloating for. Two single measures of gin and I’m done. Like not drunk drunk, but slightly squiffy. Squiffy enough to shout about PMS.

Being a woman is hard bloody work.

Now don’t get me wrong, we have the pleasure of pregnancy and child birth. Yes, childbirth is painful but the whole process is amazing and for the most parts enjoyable. But periods? Then when your done with that menopause?!

Who thought of that? Who decided that women would just bleed and then have hot flushes? Oh yeah and to top it off, most women don’t get better with age. I’ve already decided I’m going to be a ‘glam-ma’ when I’m older (if we have grandbabies [in the very distant future]).

Takeout is still not here and the gin is wearing off. Not a good sign for the delivery driver. Best of luck to that guy!

Xoxo, L

** edit** takeaway didn’t turn up till 11pm and the feeling of wanting to rip someone’s throat out and feed it to them (physically impossible, I know) has returned. Oh good luck to anyone crossing me tomorrow. I don’t even want to cross me.

A Flicker of A Sweet Memory

It’s funny what you remember when you miss someone.

My Nana passed away sometime ago, while I was still at university studying (fat lot of good that venture did, but that’s another story). My dad’s mum, my nana was a larger than life character. Mum of boys, larger drinker, lipstick wearer and experimental cook. I knew I got my attitiute for cooking from someone, and I’m so giving my nana some of the credit.

I can’t even tell you what made my mind wonder to her sausages and flying saucer eggs today, but I found myself laughing as I remember dinner times at her flat. It was a smokey affair, she chain smoked when she chatted but because she had the window open as she did it, of course it wasn’t that bad (we would cringe now). Anyway, I digress. She owned a George Forman Grilling Machine. Or, in her words “George Formby Grilling Machine” she loved the thing, and it got used a hell of a lot.

My brother and I were always fussy with what we ate at nanas house, mainly as the older she got the more interesting the combinations became and the more the food tasted like smoke. She was however, a fabulous cook in her hay day. We ended up having chip pan chips, homemade of course or pancakes, finished off with crisps, chocolate and yogurt. All healthy stuff! My dad was subjected to actual real dinner, and this particular night was rather spectacular. I remember her wafting through the living room with dad’s plate in hand before plonking it down on the table. On the blue and white crockery was a breakfast for dinner. A staple of her household and very much enjoyed.

On dad’s plate there was a fried egg (sunnyside up), tomato, beans, bacon and what looked like two burgers. My dad stabbed one the burgers and held it in the air asking what it was. My nana asked him what the hell he was playing at waving that sausage about. We were hysterical, well all apart from my nana who was completely confused about the laughing. Dad asked why it was so flat, so she demonstrated her Formby Grilling skills in the air at the table.

She’d only gone and put butchers style (the really chunky, fat kind) sausages in the grill and squashed it down until the machine cliped shut. She returned to the kitchen to put her own meal together.

In the meantime there was the fried egg. Same meal, same day. Dad struggled to cut the white of the fried egg so picked it up to see what was going on. Turns out this egg had been fried to with an inch of it’s edible life. It stayed perfectly flat as he picked it up. He starts making his idea of UFO noises as the yolk balances on it’s white plate like shelf with a slight yellow wobble. Again, both me and my brother fell about laughing while dad tried to put back on a straight face as nana came to the table with her own dinner.

I still remember the smell of her pressed powder, the shade of her lipstick, her choice in skirts and how she always wore a pinny over them. Her kindness and patience. Her spoiling us and caving to our every request for sweets as children. I remember having to watch the snooker when it was on because she loved it but then she’d let us watch the Simpsons over dinner time and let us sit of the sofa instead of at the table with our food. I miss her, her accidental funny anecdotes and the liverpudlian twang that still remained from her younger years in her voice. The raspy cough and the way she would order herself two halfs of larger instead of a pint just because it wasn’t lady like to order a pint (but it was okay to sit with two drinks).

I miss her – photo from my 18th birthday meal. A day of mixed emotions, I lost a dear friend that exact day.

What sweet memories do you hold of a missed love one? I’d love to hear a story or two.

Xoxo, L

In Hiding

I hid from the world today.

Anti-social side came out and I actually avoided going out doors. Uncharacteristic at the moment as I go out every day. I am, for sure, on a down day.

I’ve changed up my workouts which was an undoutable win. I was shuffling about on YouTube and found some amazing yoga and HITT workouts that made me sparkle (I don’t sweat, I sparkle). I’ll be picking this up again tomorrow as I really enjoyed it.

However, yoga sequences are kinda difficult when you’ve a child climbing on you. Having to watch a Yoga tutorial from downward facing dog with your media player up high so the baby can’t grab, then having to fend her off when your doing a warrior pose – believe me it’s a workout within a workout. I’m aching regardless, means it’s working though right!

Strange fact of the day, turmeric in porridge (almond Milk, not cow’s) mixed with a little cinnamon and soya yogurt actually tastes half decent. I’m not talking tons of the stuff, just a 1/4 teaspoon in 1/2 cup of oats. Pretty good, and yellow as aposed to any form of pink or purple porridge makes a refreshing change. Turmeric is a fab antioxidant and has anti-inflammatory properties too, so great to add in to your diet. Who doesn’t love an antioxidant.

I’m going to work on my mood, I really don’t relish the thought of being down.

Xoxo, L

Plateau

I’ve reached an empass. I’ve got to a point in my ‘kick the additional weight’ journey where my body is just like NOPE. The scales have barely moved this month and the fact that I’ve been well and truly on it is driving me nuts.

I’m drinking plenty of water on a daily basis, working out 5-7 days a week for between 30 and 60 mins not including any walking I do. I’m eating so well, all clean no processed foods, no additional sugar or salt. I don’t understand. So yeah, that’s where I am with that. Supper disappointed that my body is refusing to respond.

In a rebellion against my non-responsive body I’ve been looking up workout on Pinterest. This one move, particularly the picture to show it, made me laugh out. I think there might be something wrong with me because this tiny little picture, was to me, hilarious! I like how the woman is just like exactly the same with her ponytail is slightly skewed to one side, and she’s higher up in the little blank box she resides in. Like I said, pretty sure I should have found it that funny.

Delilah and I spent the day with my brother and Ems. We spent it walking in the sunshine, letting the girls splash in the water table and playing with the two huge dogue de bordeaux that live with Ollie and Ems. Here is a douge nose, a very lovely nose it is too.

Delilah took her hat off at every opportunity, and then threw it in the water and ate the grand total of 5 mouthful of dinner. Poor kid seems to have got my immunity for pollen. She was streaming, and of course the chemist wouldn’t sell anything to me as she is too young. So off to the doctors we go so they can prescribe something for my little lady bug.

Despite the hayfever, hopefully we will see more of this beautiful weather!

Xoxo, L

Don’t Be So Hard On Yourself!

In the world of positivity, plenty of people say “don’t be so hard on yourself”. I’m guilty of saying it to others myself, but I find myself question the logic behind this.

Being ones own worst critic, is something that I believe to be a positive. Holding yourself accountable because you haven’t done good enough to your own standards is a powerful thing. A self motivational and powerful thing. After all you are in control of your own journey.

To be confident, we are told to master not caring what other think of us. Their opinions, next to ours shouldn’t have an impact on what we do or how we proceed on our own path within reason. If this is so and advice to be followed, which is what I see as true, should we not be relying on ourselves to be our own critics and cheerleaders?

When we encourage someone to “not be too hard” on themselves, are we encouraging some to slack off? Are we asking them to stop listening to their own inner critic? The very same inner critic that will push them to do better?

Food for thought indeed. I’d love to know what you think on the matter.

Life update: Today was not sunny. It started last night about 11ish. The temperature dropped and the wind picked up. When it’s a sweet and warm evening we often sleep with the window open, last night was one of these nights. Man got up twice because his blood sugars where monstrously high (diabetic type 1) so he needed to pee constantly. Then the wind kept making the curtains do this wild dance, hitting the footboard of the bed. Talk about disturbed sleep. Once the window was shut, man settled and I finally caught some Z’s.

Man gets up relatively early, but my plan was to beat him to the finish line and squeeze a run in before he went to work. I’ve been thinking of running again for a while. I was so cream crackered (nackered), that I couldn’t bring myself to get up on the 6am alarm. So here’s hoping tomorrow will be a better start.

Delilah and I got up, worked out, showered, dressed and painted my face ready for the day. It still looked like it was going to absolutely bounce it down, so we threw on out rain coats and got out anyway.

It did rain, but only lightly and we missed the most of it because we were in a village shop. Any which way it was a good day. A positive one, with smiles from every angle from Dela.

An update from yesterday’s news flash. Both women in the accident are okay. In hospital, with injuries but I believe from what I’ve read nothing overly serious. The crash wasn’t because of a police chase with a drug deal, police confirmed this with a local news hound. Im glad they’re okay, this was and will remain the main thing.

The situation in the village is somewhat quieter than it has been in previous months, but this morning a local drug addict was seen walking on the school route barely able to stand up. What logic that is! Get absolutely high on drugs and apear at the same time and on the same walk children take to school. I’m no-one to tell folk how to live their lives, but when it starts to impact young children enough is enough. It’s never going to be cut out completely, and that’s the sad truth as far as drug are concerned but we can make it harder for dealers to deal in our village. I urge you, if you see a deal being completed, get the car reg and report it!

Happy Wednesday Lovers.

Xoxo, L.

Success!

This morning was a boost. Those who know man and I, know our daughters namesake is the song ‘hey there Delilah’ by The Plain White T’s. I always hash tag #heytheredelilah on photos of her and today ThePlain White T’s commented and followed me on insta!! I’m so freaking happy. So much love

Meeting success!

I managed to get in all my questions and queries asked. It did help that the lady I met with was a true pro. A woman after my own heart. Organised, taking notes, friendly, listened and spoke (it’s normally one or the other). She was lovely. It was a pleasure to meet with someone so professional. I even managed to get into my work trousers (pre-preggers trousers) for my meeting. I felt great.

Man took an impromptu couple of days off, which worked out great too as he could take care of Dela when I was at my meeting. Dela had a few hours with daddy, visiting her great grandparents on his side of the family.

It’s the first time man has been alone with baby sincd September last year, and she was about 6 weeks old when that happened and as you can imagine she has developed since. So now 9 months (ish) old and first daddy daughter day. I packed her snacks and milk, knowing they’d be out over snack time and most likely over lunch because there is no regard for time and daddy is on his own watch (and only his watch).

I could lie and tell you I wasn’t nervous, but the fact of the matter was I was shitting bricks. Not because Dela would be alone with daddy, but because great grandparents like to feed great grandchildren shit, because they can be very ‘in face’ (I know because my grandparents are very much like this), because I have no control over what happens when my daughter is not in my care.

Relinquishing control is hard. I am a self confessed control freak. Despite my laid back appearance (and approach with certain things) I am 100% in control. I don’t like to rely on anyone else, and if I want something done I would rather do it myself than ask someone else. This could be seen as independence, which is something I’ve always been proud of and I suppose in a way I’m proud to be a control freak too.

I’m going to work on taking away any negative connotations of the term ‘control freak’ in my mind. That’s my goal for the rest of this week.

Being in control is nothing to frown at especially when we’re talking about your own children, your own life and the situations that you can control. I’m not (I can already hear your cogs turning) saying for one second you can control everything, but for the things you can – I say, steer away!

I digress.

After my meeting, I hot tailed it home to take the dog on a walk. He walked amazingly well for a change, and so did I. I found myself strutting. Dela enjoyed her morning with daddy. She didn’t starve, she wasn’t fed anything sugary and she was okay and full of big smiles when she came home for me.

Made a super healthy version of beef nachos using a wholemeal tortilla baked as my nacho chips. So good. Squeezed in making some healthy snacks, no bake peanut butter bars and oat and date energy balls. HEALTHY! Dela loves the energy balls too and they are literally 3 ingredients and too easy not to make.

It was a good day. In fact I would go as far as to say it was an awesome day.

Xoxo, L.