Okay…so it’s been two years since the last Madmummy post. Unless you have been living in a cave, you will probably know what the previous (and uncharacteristically short) post was about. Lockdowns. Covid measures. 14 day isolations and all that jazz. It was both terrifying and brilliant. For a working mum with two children it was a gift of time to spend with her beloved offspring.
When lockdown 2020 happened Madmummy gleefully set up her own classroom, drew up a timetable, printed a whole pack from Twinkl and became known as MrsMummy for the remainder of the summer term. She even made the Hulk wear shirts every day, to keep his fine motor skill developing. Why did she bother with such structured homeschooling from the get go? Many other parents were just letting the kids play alone, while they watched Boris thumbing the air, as they freaked out over the global pandemic.
5 reasons why MrsMummy started home schooling in lockdown 1.
- It kept the children distracted and gave them a sense of normality.
- It kept Madmummy distracted and kept her from panicking about the impending doom.
- It maintained a routine that kept them all from boredom and bickering.
- It kept the learning going.
- It was kind of fun.
(yes, the hairdressers were closed – hence the Boris look )
Madmummy remembers well the fun of the first few weeks. Studying flowers, going on a nature trails, doing yoga and listening to them read. Indeed, Jabbermonkey often recalls it as a lovely time when Madmummy gave them both much attention. So how come she hasn’t written all about the global pandemic and the joy of homeschooling? Its been two years! Where has Madmummy been?
And then I go and spoil it all by doing something stupid like….a PGCE!
Madmummy had worked in education for 3 years. She often compared herself to one of those boxing coaches on the side of a boxing ring – who douses the component in water, sticks in the gumshield and pushes them back to the fray. Only, she was giving the year 6 teacher a pep talk -reminding her she was amazing- and handing her a coffee before her next class. Madmummy was in awe of her. She was a lovely, brilliant teacher. But, like many teachers, she was tired, stressed and all consumed by the job. The few times it was suggested that Madmummy would make a good teacher (for she had a degree and wasn’t bad with kids) she would smile politely and fain consideration. However, inwardly she would recoil and titter “HA HA – I DON’T THINK SO”
But then Madmummy met another teacher in the same school. This lady had been pregnant during her PGCE, had a babe in arms on her graduation ceremony and promptly gave birth to twins in her third year of teaching. AND THEN SHE CAME BACK! She was a stoic goddess! Yet, even with such an inspirational example of how a parent can succeed in teaching, Madmummy wasn’t really tempted. After all, she loved being a Teaching assistant by day and a mum by night (and having her weekend free to enjoy her family.)
But then the year 6 contract came to an end and she started at a new school as an Early Years Practitioner, with her leg in a plaster cast (long story- see previous posts)
While there, she worked with another teacher, who had a toddler at home and a child attending the same school – in the class next door. How lovely, Madmummy thought, to be able to work and see your child every day. How handy that she would have all the holidays with her children and still earn a good wage in such a respected profession. (ahem). But still Madmummy resisted the urge to become a teacher. The costs of wrap around child care, during the training, would make it impossible. Besides, she was perfectly content to just support the class.
Then the pandemic happened and Madmummy started homeschooling – and got a taste for teaching. Finally, she considered this option seriously because:
- She really did like planning out lessons and seeing her children learn.
- She was inspired by the heroes of the pandemic She wanted to give something back. The country needed teachers!
- She was still only on a contract as a Teaching assistant and wanted more job security.
- With Hubbykins working from home indefinitely, it would be possible to avoid the childcare issues.
So in May 2020 she applied and was accepted on both PGCE Secondary and Primary courses. Next to choosing her A Levels, it was the hardest decision she had ever made. Despite the £12,000 carrot for English Secondary teaching, she opted for Primary teacher training.
a) because she is 5 foot 3 and teenagers scare her,
b) because there would be less names to remember and
c) she had more experience with this age group both professionally and personally.
The spirit is willing but the flesh and brain is weak.
2 years later, and Madmummy has failed to maintain the elusive “work-life balance”. Turns out teaching is tough. Who knew.
Madmummy had envisioned that, after securing her first proper role, that she would turn miraculously into Miss Honey. OR perhaps she would educate and inspire the rough city urchins, a la Michelle Pfeiffer. But, sadly, she has not become the confident, organised teacher who is praised for her unique and effective techniques.
Despite working from 7:30 to 5:30 and several hours at home in evenings and weekends, she could not keep up. Over time, she found herself lacking in energy and brain power to cope with the mountainous work and responsibilities. She won’t bore you with the details but take what you think a teacher does and multiply it by 10 (at least). There were good moments- moments when she felt proud and on the path to be a damn good teacher. But too many times the work and effort did not equal success. And by July she was burned out.
No amount of time could make up for her ineptitude, and slowly the imposter syndrome evolved into constant internal self-berating. Even the most helpful constructive criticism felt like a dagger chiselling another chunk off her eroding self-esteem. Much like the icecaps, her growing misery was a well discussed topic at home; family and friends sympathised but nothing could be done. Until it became apparent that urgent action was needed to prevent what was left of her confidence and self-worth melting into a sea of despair. What should have been the restful summer break was instead marred by intermittent panic attacks everytime she thought of work: Her heart quickened at the sight of her laptop and the gig stick of lessons plans for the new academic year. Her stomach would churn at the sign of the SEN folder that she knew she needed to read in order to best support the children with Special Educational needs
She felt both a sense of sinking and shrinking on the few days that she left her children, (or dragged them with her) and attempted to prepare her classroom displays. Everyone else’s were so much better. She would never be able to compete.
The days of Autumn ebbed slowly away. The process of moving house gave a welcome distraction from her anxiety. Then the dread hit. The last two weeks of the holiday were shadowed by a dark depression so humbling, she longed for a return of the breathless, mind spinning panic of straight up. run of the mill stress and anxiety. The constant feeling of being trapped in a joyless void was suffocating. Nothing made her smile in two weeks. She tried to pretend. Some may have been fooled by the mask. How she desperately wanted to be happy. To enjoy the rest and the time with her children. For two years she hadn’t really been present. Too many times had they seen her cry. Too often had she been sat planning on her computer, denying Jabbermonkey his right to attention. To often had she let the Hulk gorge himself on junk food and you tube while she completed her resources.
And I’m spent
So, Madmummy decided to quit.
She wants to be a good mum again. Jabbermonkey often spoke wistfully about the good ol” days of “lockdown mark 1” -when Madmummy only had to work for one day a fortnight and spend the rest of her time with them. Such joyous times then being followed by Madmummy disappearing in an all encompassing career, must have been a real shock to the system.
But now it’s like she has returned from war! She looks at her own children. She laughs at them and is present. There’s no nagging voice in the back of her mind reminding her of the endless to do list and her inadequacy at work. The feeling of freedom is palpable.
Sometimes you have to give up to win
Madmummy is not the first, nor will be the last to find teaching a little overwhelming. But she has a greater understanding of the struggles of teachers now. Perhaps she will return one day, but to preserve what is left of her sanity she will be returning to supply and considering alternative career options. As much as she would love to write her blog more regularly, finding another job is paramount. There’s a mortgage to pay and kind of a cost of living crisis going on -something to do with the Brexit, Covid and possibly a War in Ukraine. She’s been depressed enough in 2022, so tries to avoid the gloom on the news.
Besides, right now she is still dancing on sunshine from being free of a toxic situation that was making her miserable. When you are trapped in the mine with your oxygen running out, and then finally get pulled out, the worry about your financial security cannot detracted from the glorious feeling of sunshine on your face. Besides, Madmummy knows many others have it far worse right -now and in her right mind -she has the perspective to see that. So, in the immediate future she is looking forward to:
- Having regular loo breaks
2. Not having to manage 30 kids behaviour (just her her own 2)
3. Having the time to binge watch all the Netflix shows from the last 24 months!
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