There was a time when I had 4 jobs at the same time. Project Manager for a mobile content provider from 9-5 during the week, Marketing Consultant for a bookstore on the side, New York City Ballet Workout Instructor after work twice a week and wedding coordinator on weekends. It was just a matter of efficient time management, and I've always been good at multitasking.
By the time I gave birth, my sources of income had disappeared: the bookstore found a full-time Marketing Manager, my wedding coordinating partner gave up the business, a bout of spotting in the first trimester made teaching the workout class impossible, and my boss at the mobile content provider decided to downsize the business and eliminate my position. The timing couldn't have been better - I was ready, with some trepidation, to devote all my time to the baby.
God had smiled down on us and my husband was offered a position with an international investment house. The roles were now reversed. He used to work in the mornings and play golf in the afternoons while I sat behind a computer all day; now I would be a full-time wife and mother while he put on a tie and started to spend 12 hours a day at the office.
Full-time motherhood makes working 4 jobs simultaneously a child's play. Suddenly I was on call 24/7, and the demands were far more tiring than employment had ever been. When my husband came home from work and relaxed in front of the tv, I still had to bathe, feed and put my son to bed. But after the initial adjustment to being home all day, I started to enjoy the Stepford life.
When Little A was 6 months old, I planned to resume my part-time jobs - teaching the ballet workout class and freelance events and marketing gigs. But I found myself turning down a wedding that would have meant being away from him for 12 hours and delaying my return to teaching, despite the numerous requests for my class to resume.
Because he is exclusively breastfed and we don't have a nanny or child-minder, Little A and I have been together almost the entire time since he was born. While he grows more independent daily and I know the time will come when I will have to leave him in someone else's capable hands for at least an hour, that day is yet to come.
In the coming year, I hope to fulfill the dream of achieving goddess-level domesticity, which includes owning a sewing machine and a KitchenAid. On a smaller scale, spending an hour or two on my own getting my nails done for the first time in a year would be good too.
Roll on 32, let's see what's in store.