The Taste of Freedom

Mornings are often a peculiar and somewhat disorderly time in the Samuel-Napier household. This being said, I still try to find some solace in the fact that, by the time I get my kids out the door, sit in almost an hours worth of traffic (even though we live but a mere three unwalkable miles from school), do battle with the fearsome London commuters for my one square-foot of space on the ThamesLink, only to finally get into University and sit down to a week of neurology lectures, I genuinely feel like the most challenging part of the day is already behind me.

So before I kick off by telling you all about how the previously mentioned random set of events gave me the kick up the butt I needed to turn my life as I knew it on its head, I have to vent about the even more chaotic than normal morning I just had…

1. Husband burns toast = Wake up to a house that smells like an incinerator

2. Col-‘Gate’. This (for any one who hasn’t yet parented a 5-year-old) is a conspiracy whereby your kids see how many times you will have to ask them to brush their teeth before either:

A) You crack and send them out with their breath smelling like mouldy cheese;

or

B) You threaten to brush their teeth with the dustpan brush.

3. Then comes the cereal swap,

Parent: What would you like for breakfast, love?

Child: Cornflakes please.

Parent: Ok, no problem (puts cereal in bowl and adds milk)

Child: Actually, I want Coco Pops!

Parent: No, you asked for cornflakes, so here you are.

Child: Well, I’m not eating THAT!

Parent: That’s FINEEEE. I’m leaving it beside you but suit yourself!

(Then it all backfires when just as you are walking away from the classroom after having sent them off with a kiss and cuddle, you overhear them spouting to their teacher about how hungry they are because they didn’t have any breakfast! Arghhhh!)

4. Find the SHOE, because of course it must have grown little shoe legs and wandered off from where you left it (this part generally being the tipping point between being on time and being late…)

To be honest, after almost ten years of being a mum, I have learned to suppress my OCD-like tendencies towards order, and lowered my life standards enough that I now think that this kind of malarkey is fairly normal. However, today was a whole new level of crazy. There I was, with my two older kids running around our garden in my dressing gown trying to catch two escapee guinea pigs before our cat could call them  breakfast.

Meanwhile, back inside, my youngest daughter was busy flushing an entire thing of loo-roll down the toilet, all because ‘Leo’, her invisible friend that jumped out of a book a number of months ago, threw it in.

Anyway, we were about 20 minutes late at this point and so, full of self-pity,  I shoved a chocolate eclair in my face, swung the front door open, only to time it perfectly for a first meeting with my new (and might I add very sporty-looking) next door neighbour (who must now think I’m completely ridiculous, not least for my attempts to say hello in some weird made up sign-language due to the mouth full of pastry I was chomping on!)

What’s new, I’m off on a tangent. Anyway, back in the story, I had decided to jump into the driver seat and take control of my life, and so away we went on one almighty off-road trip.

You know I think we must have some sort of inbuilt mechanism to help us deal with those folk that for want of a better word might be considered a bit of an arse! Because it’s only now, looking back on it, that I realise how much of an old bovine my old boss at the time actually was.

I had come to the conclusion that I was going to ask for more flexible working hours, and enroll in a part-time science-based course and see where I went from there. But as time rolled on, and I continued to ask, she continued to palm me off.

It had started to get to the stage where I was getting quite annoyed with the situation, so I had decided to ask one final time - but this time I wasn’t going to back down.

She reluctantly organised a meeting just before I was due to go off on three weeks annual leave. A member of senior management had flown over from London to sit in on the meeting, and I remember walking into the conference room feeling quite cheerful and positive, but this wasn’t to last long.

“Morning Louise,” my manager said in an abrupt tone.

“Good morning,” I replied politely. “I hope you are both well?”

She interjected sharply, “Look, this meeting is a matter of formality, so lets get on with it, I have a VERY-BUSY-DAY ahead!”

“Ok,” I said, feeling like someone had begun to siphon off what little positivity I had.

It was all-downhill from there really. My manager clearly fuming she had to have this meeting in the first place, seemed determined to make it as awkward as possible for everyone involved and boy, didn’t she half. I told them that I felt like I needed a better work-life balance, and that I didn’t feel like I was fulfilling my role as a parent as a result of the current situation. But, honestly, I may as well have been talking to the Mona Lisa, they both sat silently staring straight through me. Both of them where highly motivated women which you have to admire but neither had any sort of family commitments and they just did not get it.

   I asked them to take a look at the detailed plan of suggestion that I had spent ages drawing up. She picked it up skimmed through it in about 45 seconds flat and then… began using it to fan herself! Like SERIOUSLY!

You know I think it is quite important for anyone who is dishing out Sh1t to understand that there is a limit to the crap you can put in the wheelbarrow and after that it tips out all over you! (A phenomenon of which my boss clearly wasn’t familiar.)

This was not going well, It felt like the walls had began to close in around me, I was going to be trapped!

So, basically, after about an hour of me trying to salvage any sort of deal - a few less hours, a bit less responsibility (I would have taken anything at this point) - she said, “Look, Louise, I can’t see how we can accommodate what you are requesting. And, besides, things are working really well as they are.”

Yeah, working well for who? I thought. Then out of the blue and quite out of character I said quietly, “Can’t see or don’t want to see?”

“Excuse me?” she said.

Oh sh*t, what had I just done? But there was more…

“Seriously? You aren’t even willing to compromise here!” What the hell was I doing… it was a classic case of verbal D+++, and it just kept on coming.

“Louise, you are needed here in your current capacity,” she said veerrryy calmly staring me straight in the eye.

“Is that a no?” I asked bluntly.

“We can re-look at this in another six months, Louise.”

“That really won’t be necessary. I don’t think either of us need the stress and hassle of this rigmarole again.”

“Okay?” she said, looking a little confused.

“I quit!”

WHAT? My boss said “Louise just a moment now…”

 “No, I think we have wasted long enough on this matter will send you my formal resignation in the morning,” I said with the most random surge of confidence.

“Anyway, I’d best be off, I have a VERY-BUSY-DAY ahead… with my FAMILY!”

I stood up, shook both their hands, as they stared at me in complete silence- lifted my things, spun on my heel, and off I went.

I was free!