You are a cyborg, girl!

I do not know how many times during lockdown I have said to myself, "Hell, yeah! You are a cyborg, girl!" Before the epidemic, it seemed to me that I would never be able to write anything while staying at home with my children (Stach is not quite seven, Lu – just over three). It turns out that yes, I am writing, and I do not even have to add to the moneybox for trauma therapy.

This has prompted me to reflect more deeply on how my work relates to my motherhood, and in particular on what abilities I have gained as a mother that are useful to me at work.

I make no secret of the fact that I start writing with some anxiety, because when we talk about mothers, almost always non-mothers feel affected (and vice versa), and this often ends with discussions that resemble Crystle's iconic struggle with Alexis (I'm sorry to millennials for that boomer chestnut). So I want to say right away that I do not mean showing the primacy of mothers over childless women. The company, the office, the university and any other place of work needs people with different skills and that competition should not be sought where compatibility can be found.

Privileged

I have to start by saying that I am generally privileged as a working mother, because my work and my home life complement each other perfectly. Journalism is an unpredictable profession, days are changeable, every political turmoil flips my schedule upside down. At the same time, it is a creative profession, writing or inventing questions for interviews is mental gymnastics, and searching for information is a constant science and intellectual adventure. In addition, there is the stress of deadlines, conversations with very different people and online storms under some publications.

Przy takim życiu zawodowym rutyna, jakiej wymagają dzieci, powtarzalność czynności i prostota wielu z nich jest zbawienna. Dzięki temu mój zawód nie spala mnie tak, jak to robił, gdy byłam bezdzietną singielką.

With this kind of working life, the routine that children require, the repetition of activities and the simplicity is salutary. It keeps my profession from burning me out like it did when I was single and childless. The repetition and stability of my home life soothes me, and staying with the children, reading them the adventures of Frog and Toad or fairy tales and chasing them around the park are a way of clearing my mind and allowing me to forget for a moment about besmirching the constitution, TVP Info and Kaja Godek.

On the other hand, if I had a less adrenaline-fuelled job based on repetition, the boredom would make me feel like I was watching paint dry. Oh, yeah, I am lucky, because I kind of take a break from home at work, and I take a break from work when I'm with the kids.

First of all: rest

So I should be rested all the time, huh? Unfortunately, I do not know why, I am actually permanently tired. But here comes the first benefit that motherhood has brought me at work: I do not forget about resting.

I learned to take some time off, which I had a big problem with before, because I was kind of like those miserable corporate workers who think everything will fall apart if they are gone for a while. It may not take time off for myself quite so readily, but I do so because of the children, with whom I want to spend time as a human being and, in addition to holidays, also sometimes go for an extended weekend to friends or somewhere in the countryside. I am sure motherhood is why I work more healthily. I know Stach and Lusia need me, so I spend all afternoon reading with them, which means I am not working then.

This is useful to the editors because I still have the energy and enthusiasm for work, because to chop a lot of wood, you have to sharpen the axe sometimes.

Second of all: speed

The coolest compliment I have ever heard in my life came from a sailor I went on a date with a couple of years ago: "I have never met a woman with this kind of speed of processing data". I have always been able to think fast and write fast (what's worse is that I sometimes also speak fast). But with children, this ability has increased even further.

Mostly, because no one will keep the nursery or kindergarten open late because I need another 20 minutes to grind the text, and the image of a child only a few years old sitting in the rain on the threshold of an educational institution is effective at breaking my heart.

Third of all: I don't put anything off for later

The articles about working mothers usually say that childcare teaches perfect organisation. Well, personally, I would never describe my everyday life like that. I think I was well organised in college, when at the end of each semester I had the material from all the subjects divided into as many equal parts as there were days for a given exam and I literally consumed a designated portion of knowledge every day (I will never understand why this did not translate into the ability to exercise regularly). All I can say now is that I am excellent at managing a permanent crisis.

I am courting, but only a little. Every mother knows that children are unpredictable. Whenever I wanted to work at night, my daughter would have nightmares, and I would have to delegate time for a hug, or one of the kids would get stomach flu, and I would have to delegate time for changing sheets and pyjamas.

My organisation mainly consists in reminding myself each day that – both in terms of housework and my career – I have to drive at the same pace as the factory line, because I will probably pay dearly for any omission. If I do not wash and clean for a few days, then I have to look for two hours off (!) to fold the laundry dunes and scrape jam off the floor under the table.

Thanks to this, I also learned not to leave too much for the mythical later on at work, I do urgent things immediately (because there may always be a call from the kindergarten that the child has a fever). Important things get a place in the schedule.

I divide the big ones into phases, because the next mothering skill is sucking as much out of each quarter as the heroes of Game of Thrones suck the marrow out of bones. In other words, every little bit of time is a chance to do something. I would love to write an article devoting three quiet, slow hours to it. I would like to clean well once a week, even dust the vents.

But what I have learned is that I tick the most when I am boiling water for my morning coffee, quickly wiping the counter, and scrubbing the sink, and that with only 15 minutes left at work before I run out to get the kids from kindergarten, I can make loose notes for the feature, or I can take a look at the data report that I am going to need for the interview. We eat the elephant piece by piece.

Fourth of all: down with perfectionism

There is, of course, the famous multitasking, the mythical ability of mothers to do several things at once. I will tell you honestly that I personally hate it. I am a highly sensitive person who has difficulty not only in doing several things at once, but also in switching between different working modes quickly. I would prefer to do one thing at a time. I think, however, that then I would be unemployed and social services would take my children. It is impossible. That is why I listen to podcasts (as research for articles) while cleaning, I call the office or clinic while cooking, I unload the dishwasher while playing Minecraft with Stach. My top achievement is the ability to read books to the children and fall asleep, only sometimes I betray myself with a slow pace or gibberish, and then I get poked: "Mum, read normally!" My children are also different, they require a slightly different approach, a different language and energy, so I constantly switch from Stach to Luśka and vice versa. At work, it gives me so much that I can switch from calling or quickly searching for data to writing, although it is still very energy-intensive and difficult for me. A side effect of this, however, is an invaluable thing: I learn (work in progress) how to be imperfect. I do not polish text with a fine-tooth comb, I do not ponder endlessly over syntax. Better done then perfect.

Everything you write in your CV

Researchers of the subject say that mothers can put a number of other skills on their resumes, e.g.

• the ability to resolve conflicts ("Mum, he bit me on the cheek!”),
• communication ("Son, if you don't tell me why you are yelling like a possessed person, I will not be able to help you when the neighbours call the police”),
• negotiation and the ability to influence others ("If you poke your eye out, you will not be able to be a pilot"),
• time management ("Hurry up, because if I get fired from work, there will not be any money for toys!"),
• ability to prioritise ("If I don't eat something, I will starve, but if I don't bathe, I will not die of dirt" – from the unkempt thoughts of a working mother).

I agree with all of this, although you may feel like I am joking.

In fact, I find it difficult to combine work with motherhood. But it is rewarding. In publishing her iconic "The Feminine Mystique", Betty Friedan claimed that working wives and mothers would be healthier and happier, and their marriages would be more lasting. Modern research confirms this. There are also reports that mothers' work is good for children, that their daughters are more educated and earn more, and that their sons are partners in a more equal way. But that is a completely different story.

If I were to point out the fly in the ointment, I would say that unfortunately the common denominator of both spheres of life is the cheater's syndrome and the feeling that you could have done more or better, which follows you every step of the way. Fortunately, I do not have much time to think about it.

Author: Natalia Waloch

The article was published in "Magazyn Świąteczny” of "Gazeta Wyborcza” from 13 June 2020