I’ve been lucky enough to work for the one boss for 10 years this year. Or is it 9. I’m not sure, it’s been ages anyway. Of course there have been a few bits in between where you, know, I had two babies, but apart from that, I have been one of the lucky ones to enjoy constant employment at a place I enjoy turning up to.

I have always worked 3 days a week and 4 if it’s busy (usually, in tax season, between July and December). This year, rather than flip back to 3 days per week, I had a light bulb moment and decided to ask my boss if working school hours, over four days, would be cool with her. It was, cause that’s the kinda gal she is. But, just quietly, I think I’ve fucked myself.

A word of warning, if you, right now, are getting home from work AFTER your husband or partner and dinner is basically on the table, a load of washing is on, homework has been started and all three children have been showered or bathed, do not mess with that situation! I have learnt this the hard way.

Since changing my hours, it’s almost like my husband has just internally gone "woo-fucking-hoo, no more Mr Mum, watch me now as I just nick off out the back and start my shed living phase". I now get home before him therefore, I start dinner. I do homework with the 7 year old (which can be very harrowing) and I do lunches. I hate lunches. I cannot tell you why, it’s just the one thing I struggle with. Generally there are the three kids lunches and mine (ideally) for the next day. There are only so many ways to jazz up a vegemite sandwich I’m afraid. Wraps, tuna, carrot sticks, you name it, we’ve attempted it. Vegemite always creeps back in.

So as tempting as it to circle the block until my husband returns home, it’s not all bad news. I now get to spend an extra 10 hours a week more with my kids than I used to. I’d like to say quality time, but often I’m shooing them away from the gas cook top or telling the 3yo to STOP SQUEALING AND USE YOUR WORDS!! No, it is good. Plus I get to attend after school stuff, like the netball trials of last week. Actually, that might not be considered a pro (see the Netball post). At least I was there to see her though, and I know this means a lot to her, being 10, and being the type of tween who is ready to snap at the smallest of injustices.

Although, both of my school aged children received student of the week last Friday. Freakishly, they don’t attend the same school and yet I knew of not either, until I cleaned out their bags on Sunday night (oh yeah, festering lunchbox eat your heart out) and found both of the glossy cardboard certificates in their bags. Neither of them had bothered to tell me. I wish I had known or been given a heads up by the teachers so I could have attended (although that would have been a total bad parenting moment with me having to choose who was more worthy of my full attention). Either way, these are the things now, open to me and my new hours.

There are pros and cons. Obvious good bits are that I get to see my kids more and they aren’t at daycare and afterschool care all the time. Plus I save dollars. I get to sit down and take my time with Sams homework and go for a walk with the ten year old when the sun is still shining. The cons are pretty obvious. I have to do more shit around the house.

The thing is, I guess we’ve always worked well the way we did before. We found our groove and we were both happy with our individual household workloads. I’ve always been of the belief that , as we both work, we are both equally responsible for said workload. So tonight, although I had to slam a few pots and pans around to get my point across that, while he had sat on the couch and drunk a beer whilst I made dinner, lunches, put two loads on, hung two loads out and got the kids clean, I think, he eventually, cottoned on to the fact that he still lives in the world of a working parents household. He just needed a little teensy reminder.

But, tomorrow, if you see a woman at the Pirate Park avoiding the chaos at her home, it’s just me, trying to be the last one home.