By SUZANNE JANNESE .

I’m a stay-at-home mum, and I need to vent. OK?

Recently an article was published entitled Dear Stay At Home Mums, Shut The Eff Up! Well, guess what? I’m a stay-at-homer, and I CAN’T shut the eff up.

For the most part, I agree with the aforementioned article. All the moaning about school runs and sniping about swim lessons and how stressful it is getting the kids into decent schools also makes me want to run for the hills.

Because what is there to moan about? Stay-at-home mums (SAHMs for short) made the choice to raise their kids, so why complain about it all the time? As the article says: If you don’t like it, get off your sweatpant-ed a*s and get yourself a job.

But that’s where I take issue with that argument. Because DEAR GOD I WOULD LOVE TO GET A JOB. And I had one. For 5 years, I tried to be the world’s best life juggler holding down a full-time job on one of England’s most famous soap operas while raising two kids.

Every day, I’d dash to drop my kids off at daycare, drive to work, pick them up from daycare on the way home, and fly through bathtime and homework and bedtime all before settling down to read 8 scripts before midnight. Yeah. For this PLEASURE, I spent over two thirds of my salary on childcare. Eventually, however, I did the math. One frazzled mother with no time for herself multiplied by gas costs and childcare fees minus any sense of greatness at either job (motherhood and my paying job) equals a marriage on the rocks and a woman on the verge of an alcohol addiction.

Something had to give. So I gave up my job. Not because I wanted to, but because I HAD TO for the sake of my family and my husband. And most importantly? My sanity. Then—without the pressure of a job—I could be there to make sure my son was able to attend all the after-school activities he so desperately wanted to attend, let my 3 year old daughter attend pre-school, and still have plenty of energy left for homework and play dates.

Now? I wake up everyday, paint on my ‘happy face’ and try not to cry into my coffee. I know I should feel blessed that I get to witness my daughter show how well she wiped post poo. I know I should cherish being able to spend 20 minutes on a thorough lice check or keep smiling when I’ve spent an hour making Pad Thai only to have my kids spit it out and request chips for dinner instead. But I don’t.

In all honesty, I feel pretty lost and achingly lonely. Being surrounded by small people all day makes me miss interactions with people my age who have similar interests. Small talk at the school gates isn’t the same as storylining a major episode or debating the merits of the writers on the latest box set everyone’s watching. It just isn’t.

‘So go back to work b*tch!’ I hear you cry. But I tried that, remember? Me working full time is just as bad as me not working. The whole ‘flexible’ thing that some mums have going on? Not really applicable when working in TV. With all my heart, I wish someone at school had taken me aside and said that after sweating through exams, university, getting on a career path, and climbing the ranks it would all become impossible when I had kids. I wish someone would’ve said that I’d have to compromise in so many ways because my chosen career path is mainly filled with childless folk—AKA those who don’t have to dash out of a meeting because, “The nursery closes at 6pm, and I can’t pay late fees!” or pretend to be at the dentist because there’s a play on at school or leave early or require notice before travel.

Why should it be so hard to have your feet in both camps, SAHM some days and working woman the others? Personally, I think SAHMs have the hardest job. At least at work I get to pee alone, have full conversations, and drink a cuppa tea without it going cold! At least at work I don’t have to talk someone down from an epic tantrum over a tediously mundane issue. Ok, scatch that, TV is full of folk throwing tantrums.

The truth is: the guilt of being a working mum ate away at me, and the worst part is now that I’m a SAHM, guilt still swallows me up. Why? Because I don’t love it the way some other mums seem to, which makes me feel inferior. Sure it’s great that I get to witness every milestone, but truthfully, I’m not that fascinated by the daily grind. It doesn’t fill me with the same joy that a successful day at work did. Even admitting that makes me feel awful — like I’m less of a mum for saying so.

So, I’m trying to write TV shows for a living instead. I’m trying to somehow, in my early 40s, change careers so that I can have both: time for my kids AND time for my work. I’m broke, I’m scared, but I’m trying. Whilst some mums would love to be SAHMs but have to work out of necessity, there are SAHMs who would desperately love to work, but the cost of childcare prevent us from doing so. I’m one of them.

Which is WHY we moan.

We moan for the careers we have forsaken, the inequality of the sexes, the loss of ourselves and (at times) our minds. We moan because sometimes motherhood isn’t quite what we expected it to be. We moan because we want to get some work/life balance and, goddammit, we can’t!

So, yes, I am blessed. I have a faithful husband, gorgeous and healthy children, a beautiful home, and I am fortunate enough to stay at home. Now if that home could just be an office filled with some workmates and some challenging scripts 3 days a week, that would be just swell too.

Suzanne Jannese is a writer and blogger at Your Tango.com. She also writes her own blog Crummy Mummy (who drinks) This article was originally published on Your Tango: I’m A Stay-At-Home Mum Who Can’t (And Won’t) STFU, Thanks! and has been republished here with full permission.

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