I do yoga.
I have a loooong uninterrupted shower.
My partner irons my top for work, smiling.
I talk about my work.
There is a ‘childcare crisis’. I do not go into panic mode, speed dialling every ex nanny/ babysitter/ Granny/ school friend’s mum/ neighbour/ WOMAN I have ever known. Instead I walk to the door, casually sliding over the ‘Childcare crisis emergency contact list’ to my partner. I have a meeting.
When I see ‘Buttercup Nursery calling…’ on my phone in a meeting I do not go bright red and turn the phone over before pretending I need a wee and running out. I say in firm voice, ‘Excuse me, I need to take this. You can carry on…’
I remember with a smile that I have put Daddy’s number at the top of the school trip consent form so that when the trippers are late back he gets the text and has to faff around contacting the childminder to make new arrangements.
I have lunch brazenly away from my desk.
I go into my boss’s office and ask for the same percentage pay rise as my full time colleagues, rather than just being pathetically grateful they let me do flexible hours.
When someone suggests a conference call on my day off, instead of working out if I can sit my three year old in front of Peppa with a family pack of chocolate buttons and hope the baby stays asleep for nap time I say, unapologetically, ‘No, I don’t get paid to work on a Friday so it will have to wait until Monday’.
I make things happen.
I proudly bellow ‘bye’ rather than sidling out of the office at 4.59…
I have a little rest while my partner cooks dinner. It’s been a busy day.
When my child shouts for me in the night I (lovingly) shove my snoring partner in the ribs and he will get up. After all we both have work in the morning.
I am in control and unapologetic.