When my eldest started school I made the highly original discovery that the school day ended at 3pm. My work day did not. Since then, my life has been a logistical and psychological nightmare.
Before-school care, after-school care, activities, therapy, swimming, the dentist. I am bored just typing it out. And yet it needs to be organised, paid for, a new app downloaded for each activity, for two kids, five days a week, essentially for eternity. And don’t get me started on school holidays.
I have colourful markers and magnetic planner on my fridge, a joint calendar run like a military operation, inbox zero. But it never stops and one mistake means a kid roaming unsupervised, which is highly frowned upon.
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Parents do not have a monopoly on being busy or having problems. But we do deserve a medal. Or a break. Or at least to have a mathematical chance at success.
Georgie Dent, CEO of The Parenthood, last week made headlines by stating the utter obvious for working parents. Parents of primary school aged kids who work full time need to find 814 hours of care each year that don’t exist. Or magic another trustworthy adult into their lives who will work for cheap. Mary Poppins, my DMs are open.
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Some of us are blessed to be able to hurl the kids at grandparents and drive away. But few of them are able to make up that huge gap. Many of us work less than we would otherwise to help cover the gap. But that comes at a very direct hip pocket cost. Lots of us need to take the piss either with work or the kids. iPads are utilised. Kids rotated to different mates’ houses. But even accounting for two lots of annual leave, a huge gap remains. There is only so much creativity that can be brought to this problem.
While some people’s calling is art or tending to the sick, my husband and I have ended up with jobs that are more “computer” and “being on the phone”. This is pretty flexible. But the truth is, no matter how much you can try to bend the rules or take calls in the car, there is no way around it. For parents who both work full time with jobs that require them to be at specific places at specific times, there’s no way to make it add up. For single parents, the mind simply explodes.
At points I have turned to the fallacy of “eye creams” to try and address the toll the children have taken on me. The notion that a cream will make a difference to the baked-in eye bags is a cruel myth in my experience. While I will continue to point the finger as more greys appear and my ligaments give in, a fair assessment would be that my kids are actually hilarious, eat well and are good-to-average company, depending on their mood. But the nonstop administration, being a distracted parent and playing a game we are guaranteed to lose is the dullest reason to grind my teeth until they crack.
This is the one way AI has tangibly improved my life: by booking tennis lessons and adding them to the calendar. Sorting through the thousands of words of emails telling me the detailed demands of the dance performance and its endless rehearsals.
I’d like to do less of the drudgery and more of the care for my kids. To have time to hang out with them without being distracted or taking calls praying they don’t try to contribute.
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Imagine if the school holidays could be something we looked forward to, instead of something to dread.
