July 2015 Archives – Mummascribbles

As I ran as fast as I could for the train that was about to close its doors, I had no idea that this little run which left me so out of breath, would be the difference between me making it to work safely and me being caught up in utter chaos. The only reason I ran was because the next train wasn’t for another 17 minutes and I couldn’t be bothered to wait around on the platform for that long. I am so thankful to this day that I ran.

I made it to work, settled down at my desk, turned on my computer, and as always, loaded up the sky news website to see the latest stories. I mean, Facebook and Twitter weren’t even around back then, the news was where it was at! Breaking news was happening. Reports of a power surge on the London Underground. Blimey, I thought, that was lucky, I’d only just got off it.

Having been the ‘news reporter’ of the office, I kept an eye on the story – I’d never seen anything like it happen and as all of my colleagues were fellow commuters, everyone was interested. In between doing bits of work, I kept checking the website. Slowly but surely the information started to change. Suddenly what everyone thought was a power surge was reported bombings. Slowly but surely the news of a huge terrorist attack was being broken to the world.

Chills went down my spine. I thought of the journey that I’d completed just moments before. The timings of the bombs were as I’d have been leaving my tube station. I wouldn’t have been caught up in the carnage, just the chaos of London, with the entire tube network down. The thought of that was terrifying – thank gawd I ran for that train.

Then the next news broke. The bastards (and yes I know I don’t normally swear in my posts but there’s no other word for them), had bombed a double decker bus. Some of the people who thought they’d been safely released from the underground, went on to complete their journey on the bus and the bastards bombed that too.

At that point, sheer terror was running through the office. Everyone had stopped working. Everyone had Sky news on up their screens. There was this deafening silence of disbelief. And suddenly, everyone started trying to ring their loved ones. Those who had commuters in the family. Those who had family safe at home who were no doubt seeing the news unravel. Of course the mobile phone networks were jammed. We couldn’t make phone calls. I had to send a text to my mum which was along the lines of “I’m ok mum, please don’t worry about me, I’m safely in my office” and then a mass text that simply said, “if you’ve seen the news, I’m fine, if you haven’t seen the news, turn it on”.

Horror was unfolding in London. Tube bombings, bus bombings. People fleeing to hopeful safety on the streets. People with nowhere to go. People in their offices stuck. All anybody wanted to do from that moment onwards, was to get home. But it was impossible.

Photos started coming out of the injured. Of bleeding men and women on the streets. Of absolute chaos in our home City. I am so thankful that I ran for that train.

In my office, work had simply stopped. We’d been told to stay put. There was nowhere to go. We didn’t know when we’d be allowed to leave. We didn’t know when we’d get home. For all we knew at that point, we were sleeping there. But you know what, it didn’t matter – because we were alive.

As the day went on, more photos and horror stories were coming out. The sheer scale of what had happened was being revealed. There was absolutely no chance that any of the transport network was going to be opened. We had to find a way to get home.

I’ll always remember that typically on that day, there were no senior management in the building. One of the poor assistant directors had to deal with the whole thing. I felt so sorry for him.

It came to the point in the day where it was deemed safe to leave the building. It was time to find a way home.

We’d been told that we could all get cabs that the company would pay for but that we had to leave with at least one other person. We had to travel together. So we left. And we walked. That’s all we could do. We and hundreds if not thousands of other Londoners walked. It was such an eerie feeling. The quietest and busiest I have ever seen the streets.  We walked until we found a cab. I think it was about 45 minutes before we reached a road where suddenly a cab pulled over to let some people out. We grabbed it. “Home please, take us home”, we said. The colleague I was with lived not too far from me. So that we stayed together the whole journey, we headed back to her town and I’d arranged for my dad to pick me up and take me home. Of course the traffic everywhere wasn’t great so it took dad a while to get to me but when I saw his car pull into the car park of the shopping centre we’d stopped at, it was pure relief. I remember giving him a massive hug. God it was good to see a familiar face.

Dad took me home and I remember falling into the arms of my mum. I was safe and with my family. The horror in London was still ongoing but I was ok. It was haunting, horrible, horrendous and yet I had only lived through the very calmest of what had gone on. Had I have not run for that train, I would have been in the thick of it. I would have been wandering around London, on my own, trying to get somewhere in the chaos. I’d only been working in London for 4 months. It just doesn’t even bare thinking about.

It’s been ten years since that day. Every single anniversary has been haunting on the underground. Every year has been a reminder of what happened and that of course, it may happen again at any time. Every journey on every anniversary has been a nervous one. Going back to work after a couple of days of London being ‘closed’ was horrible. Being overly cautious, not reading or listening to anything, just watching everyone. Could that person be a bomber? Is it all going to happen again?

It did. They tried to hurt us again just a few weeks later. But we are strong. We will always bounce back from this kind of thing and we will never, ever let them win.

52 people died that day. Over 700 people were hurt, many with life changing injuries. Thousands were caught up in the carnage. It is a day the world will always remember and a day that will haunt London for life. But today lets not give a single thought to those bastards. Today let’s send a thought to every one of those 52 people who lost their lives and let’s send a thought to those who still have to live with the horror of what happened to their bodies on that day. Yes it was scary for me and every other Londoner, but those 52 are the ones that need to be thought of today.

There is a minute silence at 11.30am to remember the ones we lost. Let’s all remember them together.

Going back to work after maternity leave is not easy. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been off – six weeks, six months, a year, or whether you’ve been forced back financially or have chosen to go back; leaving your baby in the care of others is not easy. I went back to work when Zach was nine months old. I had no choice as we quite simply could not afford to live without my salary. I always knew that would be the case but part of me hoped so much that it wouldn’t be. I have now been working again for two years and throughout that time, things have changed and shifted. I wanted to take this time to share with you my advice for returning to work.

Check out all of your options
I am very lucky that I have a man who loves spreadsheets. He literally has every single incoming and outgoing finance on a spreadsheet. He works it out so that we pay equal amounts into the joint account and that we have equal amounts of money that we have to spend each month. This spreadsheet was created before I went back to work and he had calculated our options financially. It was when I sat down to look at this spreadsheet that I discovered that we wouldn’t be much worse off if I went back to a four day week. Yes we’d be a bit worse off but not enough that it outweighed the benefit of Zach having a day at home with me each week. Make sure you assess all options, work out all of your finances, and maybe you can make it work for you.

Ease yourself in gently 
Remember that when you are on maternity leave, you accrue all of your holiday that hasn’t been used during your time off. Some people like to whack this amount on immediately at the end of their leave. I opted for slightly different as I took one day holiday each week until it was mostly used up. This meant that for four months, I was actually only working a three day week and that I had two wonderful days each week that I was home with my boy. It also meant that despite me going back when he was nine months, I didn’t have to put him into nursery until he’d turned one (reason in next point!).

Look at all childcare options 
I wrote a post all about my experiences of finding the right childcare. If, and I know this is a big if, but if there is a family member that is willing to help you out with childcare – use them. Not necessarily because it’s the cheaper option (although childcare is ridiculously expensive), but because for however many days that family member has your precious child, it’s a day when they are being looked after by someone who loves them almost as much as you do. On those days you can phone/text for updates, they may send you photos and videos and you can call and actually speak to your child. Like I say, I know that not everyone has this option but from experience, having my mum look after Zach three days a week (the reason he didn’t have to start nursery until he was one!), is the best thing ever. Remember too, if they go to nursery, you will pick up a child who is so excited to see you and who may bring home masterpieces like this…

Don’t go back on a Monday!
Seriously! Monday is the worst day anyway, but to go back on a Monday after a long absence is just cruelty to yourself! I was due to start back on a Wednesday but typically ended up with an appointment on that day to have some abnormal cells removed after a dodgy smear test result and so my first day back was a Friday! It was brilliant! One day back and then the weekend! Try and start back mid-week if you can, it’s much easier!

Be prepared for it to potentially get harder
You might not find this but I have found it gets harder as time goes on to be a working mum. It’s not weird, you are not alone. When your child is still a bubba, still not doing a lot, it’s actually slightly easier to leave them. When your child is nearing three and is so blimmin interesting that you want to spend all of your time watching them, that’s when it gets harder. That said, just remember – you have less tantrums to deal with at work (unless you have a diva boss!).

Don’t be too hard on yourself
I need to listen to this but of advice myself! Going to work and leaving your child is hard, but it’s made even harder if you punish yourself for doing it. I punish myself all the time. Sometimes I cry when I leave him at nursery and I can hear him calling after me. Sometimes I cry when I’m just walking down the street and I see lots of mummies with their little ones out having fun. I am so so silly to do this because no matter where he is, he is having heaps of fun. It’s going to be impossible not to feel that mummy guilt, especially at the beginning. Just try to remember that you are doing this for the family, for them.

Change job
If you are unhappy in your job you will feel ten thousand times worse about having to leave your child. Make it easierfor you, find somewhere more flexible, with better hours, more parent friendly. I changed jobs last October. I still run events but I’m away a lot less. I used to go away for anything between 3-5 days whereas now, it’s mainly overnight stays. Yes I work slightly longer hours but I get paid more and am away less. I’m still not 100% happy though so I’m keeping my eye out for other even better opportunities.

Ask for it all
Seriously, all your management can say is no. I never thought I was going to be able to go part time in my old job, but I put in the request and they said yes.

In my new job I asked for more money and flexible hours before I accepted the job and they said yes!

If you don’t ask, you don’t get!

Treasure the moments at home
Make the most of every single weekend. Go out on adventures, stay home and paint with them, whatever it is, don’t waste the time. If your house is a tip, it doesn’t matter! Spending the time with your little one is far more important than a bit of dust!

Good luck if you are heading back to work anytime soon. And if you’ve already gone back, is there any advice that you would add to this?