I was in a specialist appointment the other day.
“Do you work?” says the specialist.
“I’m a mum of 5 kids.” I reply.
“Yes, but do you work?”
I bit my tongue.
I know what she’s thinking. I drop the kids off at school and kindy, and then I’m free for manicures and chi latte’s til pick up time.
Actually after dropping the kids off, I go home, and put the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher, stacking it, rinsing off dishes, and turning it on. I check the kids rooms for dirty washing, and bring the basket down to the laundry. I put a load into the washing machine, first sorting colours and whites, putting things in to soak that require it. I change the kitty litter while I’m down there. I go back upstairs, and feed the cat. I clean up the lounge, checking for any dirty dishes, or clothes, checking things are where they should be. I restack the kids books in the corner. I vacuum and wash the dining room floor. I go upstairs and remake 4 of the kids beds. I put books away, clothes away, any dishes from the night before (drink bottles and the like). I clean the toilet. Every 3rd day or so, I will also vacuum upstairs. I clean the bathroom, shower, bath, basin (toothpaste GAH!). I pick up towels. I change bathmats. I go to the supermarket. I get pharmacy prescriptions. I go to school and kindy activities, to cheer my kids on. I volunteer and work a couple of hours a day doing that. I repair kids clothes. I prune the bushes. I do countless other tasks in my every day life.
“No,” I smile, “I don’t work.”
