I’ve figured it out. The sweet spot to enjoy motherhood while flexing your career at the same time?
3 working days.
The rest of the week is up to you. You can either catch up on housework or simply netflix and chill. Read a book. Make 5 cups of tea throughout the day. Spike it with as much whiskey as you want. The world is your oyster.
That’s the goal, anyway.
But the world is unfair and how society works is that your non-working days would probably be spent doing the laundry or washing the dishes. You watch netflix with one eye while the other eye is making sure your toddler doesn’t eat any more breadcrumbs off the floor.
Last week was one of those magic weeks: 3 days on, 4 days off. I wasn’t making as much money but it was good to have a bit of a break in between. Spend time with the family. I mean, isn’t that what work-life balance is all about? To have just enough money to not drown in poverty with just enough time to enjoy both so as not to go completely insane?
Regardless, stress-free isn’t always a guarantee. On this day, Raven woke up late. By the time she finally did, we had to rush because Jeff had a shoot with the local council at 10 in the morning.
Well, he told me it was 10am so there I was moving around like a headless chicken actively developing gastritis when really, it didn’t start until 10:30am. Which wouldn’t really have made much of a difference, but still.
Breakfast was at Bunjil Place in Narre Warren, which also happened to be where Jeff was shooting. I rarely ever go there but it’s a pretty cool place. I mean, the structure alone shows you how the City of Casey is seriously into art and omg, you should see their library and their function rooms. I mean, if you’re an artist and you got a cool concept going, you can definitely contact them and propose an exhibition of some sort to feature your work and they’d be happy to hook you up.
The countless exhibits they have had in the past that I said I was totally going to check out. Shame. But like I said, I don’t go in the area much. Maybe I should.
So anyway, Raven had babyccino and cinnamon donuts first thing in the morning. Very healthy, I know. Her happiness was directly proportional to my guilt as I told myself I was gonna make up for it later. (Don’t ask. That didn’t happen, either. How do you make toddlers love vegetables as much as they love chicken nuggets, anyway?)
I am totally killing it as a mom.
One of the events that Jeff had to cover was this talk on how to build a website. It was basic, but very interactive. And as it was a small group of less than 20 people, everyone was sharing and asking ideas back and forth and they had fruits and cakes and coffee set up at the back with various choices of milk in case you prefer low-fat over full cream, or if you prefer soy over cow’s altogether. And if you were allergic to gluten, fret not. They had you catered, too.
I was impressed.
Of course, the talk itself was impressive as well but I already have my own website so I wasn’t really as keen on going through the step-by-step details on how to create a Wix account. The only question I ever raised was What, exactly, are alt texts? Because even though WordPress states that it is used to describe the purpose of your image and to leave the field empty if it’s purely decorative, I still don’t get it.
The most interesting part happened during tea break where everyone was given the chance to move their cars or themselves around so they can mingle with everyone else. I asked the speaker, off the record, what happens to self-hosted websites after we die. That stumped her. With the way she congratulated me for such a forward thinking, it was obvious the thought never crossed her mind.
Am I the only one with these morbid thoughts?
I explained to her that the whole reason for my blog was for Raven to read it one day and if she’s naughty, maybe use it as blackmail. I already did my research ages ago and have come to the decision to stay with WordPress for free so by the time I kick the bucket, they’d still allow me squat in their database.
The speaker suggested if maintaining a self-hosted blog post mortem was a major concern, maybe I should think about including its particulars in my will. Yeah, I can do that, too. Except that it would complicate what would otherwise be a very simple one: Raven gets all my clothes, shoes, and accessories. And if I have money left in my account, she can have that as well. If.
Turns out I wasn’t the only one thinking long-term. This lady sitting at the front overheard our conversation and approached me just as I was piling on cakes and cantaloupes on my plate. She mentioned about how she had a daughter with special needs whom she was encouraging in her creative pursuits and that was why they attended the seminar so her daughter can start a blog to document her journey. Talking to her, you’d wish all mothers were supportive like that.
She asked me a lot of questions about blogging and I tried my best to be very honest with my answers, especially when it comes to privacy and the need to strike a balance between honesty and authenticity. It’s a fine line that only you, yourself, can navigate depending on your comfort level.
I’m thinking of dropping by one of these Saturdays at this gallery in Akoonah Park where she said her daughter will have some of her works exhibited. Our short conversation was cut even shorter when tea break ended.
As to those selfies of Raven and me, at some point I had to take her outside the room as she was getting restless. But all in all, she did amazingly well in behaving the whole three hours, and that is without a phone or a tablet. Instead, she just happily drew the hours away using the markers and papers supplied to her by the organizer.
As a promised reward, we let her to play with the water fountain in front of the building. Nevermind that we didn’t have any spare clothes — or even a towel — for her. She had a lot of fun. That’s all that matters.
Meanwhile, Jeff and I lounged on bean bags watching our little girl in amazement and pretty much high-fiving each other for a job well done in producing such a wonderful kid.
Also, while waiting for Raven to finish, I tried my hand on posing like fashion bloggers do. Something I wouldn’t mind venturing into, except that I’d be sporting my ethical wardrobe. Which is basically a fancy way of saying “thrifted.”
Because op shopping is ♥.
*Raven at 3 years old