The Daily Grind!

If only I was referring to Arabica, Colombian and Porte Rican...sadly though, I am talking about the daily grind of work. I'm back. I had forgotten how much organisation and energy working in paid employment and tending to children simultaneously requires. It really is go, go, go from sun-up to sun-down!

This week I am participating in induction training. I have started work in a new Government Department (hey, I live in the Public Service Capital after all) and despite having spent the last 7 years of my employment, in the public sector I am back at square one learning about Australian Public Service values and codes of conduct (and not by choice mind you) BORING.
So, today as I was sitting in the most enthralling training session known to woman (ahem) I started day dreaming.....as I do. Normally my day dreams are squarely centred around fleeting rendezvous with Wentworth Miller (Prison Break) but today I was day dreaming about my life on maternity leave - I know, it's a shock (anyone who knows me will tell you I am not stay-at-home-Mum material. Sad, I know).

Well, as of last week I was still looking at large quantities of spare time each day. My time. Sure, I have young children at home, so life is busy, but ultimately I still had chunks in my day where I could decide that it was time for a run on the treadmill, I could do weights in front of the TV, I could load the boys into my jogging pram and take them for a run. I also had time to grab a coffee with Sexy Twin, go shopping, read a chapter of a good book, blog uninterrupted, talk on the telephone and of course, make play dough (or egg carton caterpillar's as it may be).

I know that what I am about to say is taboo, and possibly an unpopular train of thought, but it's my blog and I'll risk it.....here goes......In my personal opinion and from my 3 1/2 years experience and 2 children (disclaimer: the view about to be expressed is subject to change if I deem fit, as more children come along) being at home, whilst hectic, chaotic and stressful at times, was still not as bad a gig as some make out to be.

I think there is a national consortium on how Mother's are 'supposed' to feel whilst at home. The image that runs through my head is a haggard, sleep deprived, no make-up, tracksuit pant wearing, breast milk crusted on my shoulder, spinach in my teeth, no time for a shower, coffee addicted, placenta brained, flabby mess. Truthfully, not every day is like this. In fact only one day a week is - MONDAY!

Sure, some days are harder than others (such is life), some days I want to sell Jim (he is 3 after all) on Feebay and some day's I want to lock myself in my room and have a good old cry, but mostly I find being at home pretty easy and for a good portion of my day I am able to dictate and control the events which occur around me. There are no Ministerial reports to be written, articles to be actioned for the media, investigations to pursue, arses to kiss, butts to wipe (Oh wait, yes there are). You get the idea though.

Well today as I sat in my uncomfortable chair, thinking about how much fun Muscle Man was probably having with Jim and Bob at home, and wondering when I'd fit my run in, I realised, this is life - again! This is the daily grind, and just like before, I have to schedule in time to run, time to exercise, time to make my healthy snacks and lunches, dinner menus on the go and clothes laid out, or in my worst case scenario - ironed - the night before work.

Yes, I am back to living in the land of the Weight Watchers motto:

If you fail to plan, you plan to fail!

Well, I'll be damned if I am a failure! No way, no how. Anyone who knows me will tell you I am a perfectionist (with the exception of housework) and once I make my mind up to do something, I generally do. In this case, my mind is made up to continue my exercise daily and manage a busy work and home life whilst trying (usually in vain) to achieve some balance.

So, the last two evenings after work I've come home, kissed all my boys, listened to tidbits on their enthralling and relaxing day (yes, I am jealous) as I strip my suit pants and jacket off, unzip my boots, change into my sports bra and proceed to grab my singlet and jogging pants. "Follow me and keep talking" is a common saying in my household. Muscle Man has been known to stand beside the treadmill, regaling me with anecdotes from his day whilst I slog out my 30 minute run and remind myself the benefits of making the time to do so.

Tonight I am going to soak in the tub and try and remind myself that after work is the daily grind of making time to exercise when all I feel like doing is begging Muscle Man for a foot rub, but tomorrow morning as I arrive at work I'll have the opportunity to drink the Arabica coffee beans and start all over again - hey, at least I am a fit and fabulous working Mum right? ;o)