Confessions of a Single (Irish!) Mother

by Marisa Mackle

  They say that if you’ve got five friends on your deathbed you should count yourself lucky. But I don’t want to wait until then. I know there are many dating websites out there but what about sites for meeting new friends? Clubbers and socialites need not apply.

  PATERNITY LEAVE

  Should men stay at home to mind baby while Mummy goes out to work? Well why not? From April 2011 men in the UK can now avail of six months paid maternity leave when their baby is six months old to allow the mother go back to work. In theory that sounds wonderful and oh, so fair. But realistically I can’t see many men rushing to avail of this offer. That’s because when you look after a baby full time it really is full time. There are no coffee breaks or lunch breaks, no time to leisurely read the papers on the train to work, and no after-work drinks with colleagues. There’s no dossing whatsoever and even toilet breaks must be carefully timed to coincide with baby’s sleep.

  You might think you have a very demanding boss at work but by God, at home baby is boss and he is ruthless. When he yells you jump. You must be prepared. The bottles must be made up in advance, his clothes clean, his cot made, his nappies and wipes ready, and the bibs clean, ready to catch the baby vomit. Sometimes being a full-time baby minder is akin to having a prison sentence. You lose all sense of freedom and you wonder what on earth you did with all your time before your little one arrived with only nine months warning.

  I’m sure working mothers welcome the news that dads can now share maternity leave. They can go out and have normal, sane conversations with other adults rather than watch mind numbing teletubby DVDs. Playing with teddy can be fun when it’s only for fifteen minutes. Try doing it for hours on end seven days a week and your brain goes a bit fuzzy. The joy of going out to work knowing that you can stay in the same clothes all day because they will be free of baby vomit is one good reason for women wanting to rush back to work after having baby.

  For somebody like me, a freelance writer, there was no such thing as maternity leave anyway. I even asked Dad to bring my laptop into Holles Street the day after my caesarean so I could just check my work emails. Baby is seven months old now and I’ve just finished another book and started another. Book publishers don’t tend to factor maternity leave into their work deadlines for authors.

  I would love the father of my child to take over from me for six months but there isn’t even the slimmest chance of that happening. Any woman who is lucky enough to have a partner willing to take six months maternity leave to give her a break from the endless chores that go hand in hand with raising a baby should grab the opportunity. I sometimes think men have a notion that stay-at-home mums loll around the house all day ‘doing nothing’. Hmm. Maybe shared maternity leave will finally put that complete misconception to bed.

  NANNY FRAUD

  She looks like a nice smiling, honest girl. She wants to learn English, is caring and adores kids. She doesn’t mind helping out with the housework either and is happy to babysit in the evenings also. She particularly wants to come to Ireland because she has heard many wonderful things about our country and she is anxious to work with kids of all ages and hopes to become a nurse one day.

  So you write back to this girl, let’s call her Maria. Maria emails back immediately, full of gratitude. Becoming an au-pair is a dream of hers and she comes from a huge family and has lots of experience looking after babies and toddlers. You, of course are a harried overworked Mum so you write back asking how soon can she come?

  She’s on her way, she says. But there’s just one problem. Maria has no money and her parents are struggling. Can you transfer over the money for her flight? She would be most grateful. You are a little surprised, but because you are hiring her yourself and not through an agency, therefore avoiding high agency fees, you agree to send her the money. After all, you need someone yesterday and she’s on stand-by to fly into Dublin. You both agree to meet at Dublin airport.

  Only Maria never arrives. Why? Well because Maria never existed. That lovely smiling girl in the photo is probably not even aware that her photo has been posted on the Internet. And has no intention of becoming an au-pair.

  I was shocked when I found out this was happening to vulnerable mums and dads across the world but apparently it’s rampant. So do be careful. You can be very lucky. I myself found a fabulous girl online but it took me a couple of months of talking to people online before I finally found somebody suitable. If you need a girl urgently it’s probably best to go through an agency that has already done the initial interviews for you.

  Now while I have your attention, there’s another scam going on which I feel most strongly about. This time it’s a bit closer to home. When I was heavily pregnant I was approached by a man in a shopping centre with a bucket. He asked me if I wanted to take part in a lucky dip. I put in my hand and pulled out a ticket. ‘Oh congratulations,’ he said, ‘you’ve won a prize of a photo.’ He looked at my belly and asked when I was due. He said I could have a free studio portrait when the baby came along, took my number and off I went. When baby arrived of course I’d completely forgotten about my ‘free’ prize, but I was harassed by these people beyond belief. Dreadful! They even rang when my baby was in an incubator in intensive care, demanding me to come in and get my photo taken. Sadly, when something sounds too good to be true; it’s probably because it is.

  DREAMING OF MY BED

  New mothers are obsessed with sleep. The lack of it takes over your life and you start measuring your very existence by how many hours you manage to get by on. At the beginning, four hours sleep in a row is a bonus. But thankfully the sleepless nights do eventually come to an end. For some.

  I’m lucky. I mean, I feel guilty even admitting this but my baby, at half a year old now (yes, I celebrated his birthday with half a candle on a cake!), is now sleeping ten hours at night without waking me up. Hurrah!

  My bed has become my favourite place in the world - my little sanctuary. I love disappearing down under the duvet at night one I’ve put Gary to bed in his room. I cannot, for the life of me understand parents who keep their babies in the same room as them. It’s tempting yes, but it’s also torture, especially if your baby likes to play with his toys at around 5.00am. He chats away and laughs to himself which is cute of course, but also very annoying if you’ve been writing until 1.00am!

  Anyway, when I heard that Pampers were having a Golden Sleep train in the Dundrum Town Centre recently I grabbed my mummy friends, Ruth and Corina, and we went up to the shopping centre for a snoop. Indeed there was a magical-looking toy train outside the centre, like a little kiddies ride in Funderland. The girl at the door told us that you go through the train and there was a man at the other end, a professor no less, who would advise on how you could get the baby to sleep. But, I thought smugly, my baby does sleep. I felt like a skinny person going along to Weight Watchers. The best advice I ever got was from my own mum who got the same advice from a midwife is this: babies come from very warm places, so keep them warm. Make sure their little bellies are full and they are put down in a dark, peaceful room so they learn the difference between day and night. Oh, and don’t play with them at bed-time. It works for me so I’m happy to pass on the advice onto every other parent. Layers of clothing are best and the baby sleeping bags are a godsend because they keep baby safe and snug and prevent him from moving around the cot and hitting his head against the railings. I never wake the baby up either in the mornings. I’ve read books where they tell you to wake your baby on the dot of 7.00am every morning. But I choose not to do that. Baby and I lie in until 8.30am and wake up with the sun. In fact we’re doing so well, I think I’ll become a sleep expert myself.

  NO ROOM AT THE INN!

  You know the message that’s out there? To holiday at home this year? Well, I personally think it’s a brilliant idea. Keep the money in the country and protect jobs and all that. So the au pair is going back to Italy to start college in September and I thought it’d be nice for me and the baby to go somewhere for a
break. He’s too young to go on a sun holiday as he isn’t even six months old, and, God, even the thoughts of going through Dublin airport security with his pram and his bottles and all his stuff is enough to induce a headache, so a holiday in Ireland sounded great.

  I decided to make a few enquiries first. Like did the hotel have a babysitter? Did they supply a cot? Is it okay to use the sterlisier in the room? Did they have high chairs? Was there a single supplement available as I am only one adult? I don’t see why the baby has to pay full price as he doesn’t have a fancy fry for his breakfast or anything.

  To my disappointment I realised that Ireland of the Welcomes doesn’t open up its welcoming arms to single mothers. It doesn’t matter that you are just one adult and a baby – you must pay full price, or nearly full price for the room. Nearly every hotel stipulates hat *prices are based on double occupancy* and that means adults, not little people.

  I had money saved up for this holiday but it seemed nobody wanted to take it. Even in recessionary times, a mum and her tiny tot are not the type of holidaymakers hotels seem to encourage as guests.

  Some hotels didn’t have lifts to the bedrooms making it difficult for a lone parent negotiating a pram up and down the stairs. Another hotel had no lift but steep stairs leading to the swimming pool making it impossible to carry the pram.

  I asked about kids clubs but couldn’t find any who would entertain a child under the age of two.

  Like poor Baby Jesus who couldn’t find a room at the Inn, there seems to be no place for baby Gary to enjoy an uncomplicated, good value break away in Ireland this August.

  I cast my mind back to all the weekend breaks I’ve enjoyed in this country over the years. I often dined alone in hotel restaurants as did other people, along with families, groups of friends, and couples. However, I never once remember seeing a mother and a toddler dining by themselves.

  Maybe single mums do go on holidays and stay in their room and order room service, but my guess is that they probably don’t go away at all. So like them, I will be holidaying at home in Ireland this year. In Dublin. In my own house.

  I’M NOW ONE OF ‘THEM’!

  In my air hostessing days I used to sit at the back of plane listening to the staff yapping on about childcare. Had they no lives at all? I used to think, my eyes glazing over with boredom as I tried to fall asleep along with the passengers. The cabin crew with toddlers seemed obsessed with the price of crèches, and anyone with a kid aged four and over seemed unable to have a discussion that didn’t involve schools.

  Shoot me if ever becoming that person, I’d say to myself privately. Now I am that sad person. Yes, I am now that crushing bore at dinner parties who refuses to talk about anything that doesn’t involve my child.

  Well, actually that’s a bit of an exaggeration. I’m not that bad. But I do find anything to do with childcare and babies fascinating. I’ve notice my circle of friends has changed a bit too since having Gary and I hook up with my mummy friends a lot more, although I wouldn’t go so far as joining a local mummy and toddler group to make new friends. I’ve nothing against them, and I’m sure they’re brilliant for new mums but I could think of nothing worse for me personally. Between work and child minding I rarely get to see my own friends never mind socializing with people I don’t know just because we all have kids.

  Everyone keeps asking me about my au-pair. They’re all dying to know how she’s working out. People love to hear horror stories but I’m sorry to disappoint but the two of us gel together very well. She doesn’t play loud music or walk around naked or give my man they eye. No, she’s very pleasant and polite and kind. I’m so lucky! The only thing that surprises me is the amount of time she spends on Facebook. Through Facebook, I suppose she feels she’s never too far away from home.

  I’m a bit envious to be honest. It’s a million miles away from my experience as an au-pair when I worked in a tiny village in Austria with only 400 inhabitants. Back then, almost twenty years ago, I used to stalk the postman to see if he’d any letters for me. I used to live for my mother’s weekly phone calls. I felt so very far away and I craved company my own age. There was only one young person in the village and he used to work in the sweet shop. I decided that I fancied him and would make six or seven trips into his shop every day. By the time I came home I was so fat my mother didn’t even recognise me at Dublin airport. Of course I told nobody about my secret crush and had even forgotten all about it until recently. But now I wonder about my au-pair. She does seem to make plenty of trips to Tesco. Maybe she has her eye on the fella at the cheese counter?

  THE TV BABY

  Something worrying happened the other day. The theme tune from The Jeremy Kyle show started and my little man’s head turned with delighted anticipation towards the television. He actually recognised the tune.

  That’s so bad, I thought. He should definitely be watching Barney before Jeremy. Good God the poor kid’s first letters could be DNA! But we all know how long it takes to give a bottle or indeed breastfeed so to prevent boredom, it’s handy to have the TV on. I usually turn on the TV in the morning and leave it on all day. My mum disapproves. We never had a television in our house until we were teens and mum says that’s how I was reading at three. Maybe so but I have to admit the TV is a wonderful babysitter. Baby Gary loves all the flashing colours and movement although there was a bit of confusion the other day when I appeared on TV during a pre-recorded interview. Gary watched his mum on the box in complete astonishment. After all, he was in my arms at the time so no wonder there was some confusion.

  At five and a half months old, he’s now at an age where he’s no longer happy to stay in his cot and play with his bunny rabbit. He’s on solids so he loves spitting a lot, giggling at his reflection in the mirror and he simply adores throwing things around the place. Yes, there’s nothing more fun than firing random objects across the room so that Mummy has to get up from the computer and fetch them. It’s such a pity Mummy has to work sometimes or we could do this all day long.

  I tried to read a book with him the other day. I’d bought this big book with lots of pictures of animals including a dog, cat, cow, etc. I tried to get Gary interested by pointing to the animals but all he wanted to do was put the book in his mouth. He’s teething at the moment and will literally clamp his gums onto anything, the poor little mite.

  So anyway we put the book down because that wasn’t working and turned our attentions back to the TV where the Midday Show was now airing. The panel was discussing a survey where it was discovered that a huge percentage of men would leave their partners if they put on weight. Naturally my ears pricked up. Imagine that! Surely most men take into account that their partner will inevitably gain a few pounds after having kids. You can’t settle down with somebody under the condition that their appearance will never change. How shallow is that? I covered baby’s ears and then we stuck a cartoon into the DVD player. I didn’t want to hear any more about men demanding women to stay slim. How about women agree not to gain weight ONLY if their men promise not to go bald? Now that would be a deal!

  STOP CALLNG, PLEASE!

  I had fifty-nine missed calls on my phone the other day. Yes, fifty-nine! I had stupidly left the phone in my brother-in-law’s car and he went off to New York with the keys. When I finally got the phone back I was amazed to see so many missed calls. Jeez, I didn’t realise I was so popular and in demand! But on closer inspection I realised that I didn’t recognise any of the numbers.

  It transpired that my had babysitter had stuck my name and number up on numerous Internet sites as her reference and all these Mammies were phoning me to ask me what she was like. I had to phone her and ask her to take my number down because I can’t spend all day chatting to strangers about the babysitter.

  All the Mammies were asking me why she was no longer my babysitter and I had to assure them that it is because I now have a live-in au-pair. Yes she arrived from Rome last week and I greeted her with open arms. She’s just like I had i
magined, quiet, serious, and most importantly, reliable.

  ‘It’s great that you got somebody like that,’ said a friend of mine who wasn’t as lucky with her au-pair. Her girl had her heart set on bagging an Irish man and used to roll home at around 3.00am a couple of times a week. She had warned me not to hire somebody flighty or somebody with long hair (because somebody with long hair would spend half the day in the shower washing it!). So I chose a short-haired girl who wore glasses and no make-up.

  I had explained to her in my emails that I was a writer so peace and quiet is very important in my house. I needed somebody to mind the baby in the mornings while I caught up with my writing. But then when she arrived, instead of retiring to my room and waiting for the muse to strike I decided to go to the cinema to see The Proposal, a light-hearted romantic comedy. It was my first outing to the cinema in a year and I was so pleased with my night out that I decided to venture into town the following evening with my friend, Emily. It was so nice to be out without having to check my watch every few minutes to see how much time I had left. You tend to do that a lot when you’re paying a babysitter by the hour! Anyway I was on a bit of a roll so on day three I hit the new Sundown club in The Fitzwilliam Hotel for scrumptious cocktails. I’d say the au-pair thinks I’m a bit nuts at this stage. She might accuse me of false advertising so instead of hitting the town again this week I am going to quietly read a book or else my au-pair could be on the next flight back to Rome.

  SHE’S COMING!

  Well today’s the day! My new au-pair is arriving all the way from Rome and I’m so excited you’d swear Brad Pitt was on his way!