When having it all isn't enough

I have the house, the husband, three kids, dog, cat, job AND a sink full of dishes, what more could I want?

Last week I had my appraisal. I’ve only been back at work a few weeks after being off for a year on maternity leave. My line manager seemed to agree it was quite Kafka-esque, but also mandatory, so we went through the motions.

Photo by 2H Media on Unsplash

What’s gone well, what could have been better, what about the future. I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice as I explained I didn’t think I'd have the time for further training or progression.

You see, before I had my third child I still thought I could have it all: the family and the career. I took on a promotion, enrolled on a two-year training course and volunteered to lead a training and research group.

I had plans for my career, then I fell pregnant and now I don’t. I had to give up my place on the training programme as I'd only be around for the first six months. Instead of leading a group independently, I was assigned a co-lead who could continue solo after I finished for maternity leave.

I wouldn’t change having my third for anything but I can’t help but feel robbed in a way. It was a couple of months before I started back that reality hit me like a tonne of bricks: I have a job, not a career. I’m good at what I do but I'm not going to be able to progress to where I wanted to be.

I knew that with three children at home I wasn’t going to be able to do justice to my job and be the mother I want to be.

I’ve asked to reduce my hours and sidestepped in my promotion so that I am the Course leader for around fifty students instead of five hundred. I had, rather optimistically, imagined that I’d be able to re-enlist on the training programme I wanted to do but with my reduced hours I won’t have the time.

If I was to apply for another job my CV would be littered with these half-started projects, lacking in results and qualifications. I know where I would like to be but I don’t have the experience or credentials and I don’t see myself achieving them.

The sad truth is, that in trying to have it all, something has to give. I could have that career if I really wanted to by going back full-time, taking on all the extra responsibilities and courses, but that would come at the cost of my family time.

I already wish I could do the school run more often, keep the house cleaner, bake and my eldest has two Beavers badges he’s been waiting for me to sew on for a month now. I’m not willing to sacrifice family time for my career so I’ll make do with rocking on my heels in this job. Meanwhile, I feel like I’m coming up short at home too. This is the conundrum of the Have-it-all woman.

I love my husband. I love my kids. I love my house and my pets. I even love my job most days, but do I love my life? Somehow the sum of the parts isn’t quite making me whole. Something feels like it’s missing. I pick up hobbies and drop them when I’m still unfulfilled. Cross-stitch, embroidery, writing, baking, knitting — discarded projects litter my house and haunt my dreams.

I commit to self-care and abandon it because of other items on my To do list or the velcro baby velcroing. Going to the gym, powder dip manicures, a weekly face mask, all fall by the way side in the face of louder and more urgent tasks. The only thing I manage to stick to religiously is stuffing my face with chocolate once the kids are in bed.

I have it all but I want more; more for me. Is that selfish? Or are we just trained to believe that women should be happy with their lot? I was born in the eighties when the Have It All mantra really meant Do It All. I remember my mum working, taking care of me and my brothers and keeping the house, doing the shopping, managing everything, while my dad walked the dog.

My mum is retired now and a godsend for helping with childcare. I was surprised when she told me she admired me as a parent; that I was much more patient with my children than she had been with us. It doesn’t always feel that way to me, but I know what she means.

She was permanently stressed and harried, trying to stay on top of everything. I know I don’t want to be like that. I’m convinced this is the best way forward — cutting down on work in favour of family — but I also think I'm allowed to grieve for what I'm missing out on.

Maybe, when the kids are older, I’ll be able to put the work in to flesh out my CV and progress through my career like I'd planned. Maybe I’ll throw myself back into one of my crafts, or possibly, finally, actually write a book.

Would you change anything if you could? Do you think it's possible to have it all and be happy with the amount of attention everything in your life gets? As always, thank you for reading and I'd love to know your thoughts!