Rookie Review: Motherhood, 1 year

Lately I’ve been thinking what the fuck it is I do all day. When I rest my head on the pillow each night, I often oscillate between feeling like I’ve done nothing at all and feeling like I’ve done so much. I tried to account for my time by documenting “A Day In The Life of A One Year Old,” and watching it helped me make sense of those conflicting emotions that like to creep up on me when it’s quiet.

I think I constantly feel like I’ve done nothing at all, because I simply don’t do anything in the day — to better myself, to actualise my dreams, or even just to pursue my hobbies. And I think I constantly feel like I’ve done so much, because I simply do do quite a bit in the day — I cook Poppy’s food, I take her to classes, I bring her to the park, I read to her, I stack blocks with her, I give her cuddles, I nurse her, I wash her.

Each day (and oh for the love of Pete, some days are really fucking long, really) I spend with Poppy, watching in awe as she discovers new things about herself and the world, reaffirms my belief that childhood is a precious and sacred season in life. It is such a great privilege to be so present with Poppy during this time — all day, every day — yet I also feel as though I am wasting my degree and not being a contributing member of society.

People like to lump mothers into two camps: stay-at-home mums and working mums. But it’s never so black and white, is it? Staying at home with your kid(s) is valuable work. It’s meaningful work. It’s important work. (It's work!) So is working outside of the home. It doesn’t mean you love your kids any more or any less.

It’s true, you know? Being a mother is the best, most awful job in the world.