One of the first things Charlie ever spoke to me about was my job. I'm a teacher. He seemed genuinely interested and beamed from ear to ear about what an excellent career path I had chosen, and all the opportunities it would unlock for me.
He neglected to mention that (right beside nursing) teaching is music to a romancing farmers ears. A wife who teaches is essentially a permanent solution to a bad season. I am the drought relief. Bills can be paid, mouths will be fed, ends will be met. No pressure. Of course, he didn't mention this fact to me until just after we were married.
In the seven years and four months that CP and I have been married, I have been pregnant and or breastfeeding for five years and four months. That leaves a mere two years of us just being married with no strings attached. Allegedly. Except that kids are strings. And I have three of them.
Furthermore, in the seven years and four months that we have been married, I have really only worked one year and four months at a full time permanent rate, and also done the occasional day of relief teaching. In other words, I haven't been a very reliable source of drought relief. Thank goodness for mostly good seasons throughout that time.
And now, here I am, three weeks into my new permanent part time teaching appointment. I have committed to three days teaching, every week until the end of the year. But what does it all mean?
1. A messy house.
2. Quicker, easier meals. Roasts have become a weekend luxury. Meals also require some considerable forward planning these days. After homework, baths for children and a small amount of cleaning in the afternoons, it's best to have defrosted something in advance, or even cooked it the weekend before.
3. Less me time. And less ME time equals less blogging. * Insert sad face *
4. Lobbying hard with the other Kindy Mums to help me with pick up and drop off times for Darcy, because the opening and closing times fall at the most inconvenient times possible for a teaching Mum.
5. Getting organised.
6. Hairy armpits and legs, and a skunk look hair do as my roots grow out, as I no longer have any time whatsoever to look after myself.
6. Time to find someone who can come and help out with looking after Sam. But I'll save that blog for another day...
7. Missing out on key social events, and having to live vicariously through my friends. Who would have guessed that spare change would come at the expense of my social life?!
8. More drought relief.
But not really the drought relief part. The farm is doing just fine on its own.
It doesn't need my help at all.
*Insert happy face *
PS: Would like to add as an afterthought: My sister called to let me know that 'I have had it very lucky by being able to stay home for as long as I have. Many people do not (financially speaking) have the same opportunities that I have had.' Plus I have had a bloody good time in the process - mostly. She was also worried about what people might think about my husband, and reminded me that 'I knew what I was marrying when we got married.' So mostly for my lovely sister's benefit, but also for anyone else who doesn't realise that I mostly use poetic licence to some degree in many of my blogs, I would like to remind you all that I have been truly blessed, and that I am grateful for so much in my life. Sadly that isn't what makes a good blog. But rest assured, all things this end are (mostly) very good in my life. Love you Hannah! xxx