‘So Frankie cornered me in the bathroom today,’ she was saying.
Cornered her? How had I cornered her? I’d been standing next to her and asked her a question!
‘She wanted to join the soccer team.’
‘Did she?’ Annalise had exclaimed. ‘Ugh, I hope you said no.’
‘Of course I did. God, I couldn’t stand to have to see her out of work hours as well.’
Frankie had wanted to leave. She didn’t want or need to hear any more. But she was afraid that if she started back up the stairs, they might hear or see her. She didn’t want them to have the satisfaction of knowing their words had affected her.
So she stayed and continued to listen. She didn’t get it at first. She had never done anything to them, so why did they have such hostile feelings towards her? She soon realised she wasn’t the only one they were bitching about. And every woman they complained about was a mother.
They whinged about Martha and Jodi both getting their Christmas leave forms in so early last year, about Steph asking if she could come in earlier in the mornings to knock off in the afternoon in time to pick her kids up from school.
‘As if she’ll be getting any work done at 6 am while she’s waiting for everyone else to get in! Trust me, she’ll be kicking back with her coffee and scrolling through Facebook for three hours. Having kids is like some kind of free pass to do whatever the hell you want,’ Poppy had said while Annalise made noises of agreement.
And then they came back to Frankie. ‘Did you see Frankie’s face at the last meeting when she said she’ll be in late this Friday after her kid’s dance recital or whatever the hell it was? She looked so smug and self-satisfied.’
Frankie was furious. She had not looked self-satisfied, thank you very much! They were the ones with the superior smirks on their faces during staff meetings. Rolling their eyes as soon as anyone mentioned their schedules. To be honest, Frankie thought they’d be disappointed if someone didn’t give them the satisfaction of being right.
She had wanted to stomp down those last couple of steps, burst out into the warehouse and shout, ‘Screw you two. Like either of you have a single idea what it’s like to have children!’
For God’s sake, if they wanted to guarantee they scored the annual leave days they wanted then why didn’t they make the effort to put their forms in early like everyone else? And yes, of course Steph would probably spend the first few hours of her day looking through Facebook if Paul agreed to her request to change her work hours, but that had nothing to do with her being a mother, that was just because she was bloody lazy. Everyone at Cormack knew that.
Besides, there were plenty of other mums there who worked damn hard – herself included. If Frankie left early to pick up the kids, or took the day when one of them was sick, she had to catch up on all her work at home that night after they were in bed. And for every occasion that she took time off to go and see her kids get an assembly award or run in the cross country, there were about fifteen more events she missed. Just the other day her youngest daughter Hayley had asked her why she never came into the classroom for parent helping like all the other mums did. While her eldest, Coby, was starting to complain that he was too old to go to the after-school care club and that his mate Scott’s mum let him walk home on his own.
And all Frankie wanted to do was shout, ‘I’m doing the best I can! And for crying out loud, why don’t any of you ever ask the same things of your dad?’
So she knew that Poppy and Annalise looked down on her. That they judged her.
Frankie had to admit, she gave it back. She was angry so she used her position to get back at them. She cut in line at the nearby cafe. She ordered in the type of milk and biscuits that she liked for the office kitchen.
Not long after, Frankie overheard them down in the warehouse once again – she’d taken to heading down those stairs with very soft steps, just in case. This time they were whispering about this new Facebook group they’d started up and Frankie’s curiosity was piqued. After a bit of searching, she found the group and checked it out.
NOP is a closed group for women without children.
PM one of the moderators for more information or to request an invitation to join.
Frankie wanted to know more. She already had a fake Facebook account all set up. She’d opened it up a few years back when she was checking an ex-boyfriend’s profile out of curiosity. She made a few tweaks and used it to submit a request to join NOP, and she was able to join straightaway as one of their earliest members.
Frankie quickly learned that this was Poppy and Annalise’s way of whingeing about other women – about women like her. But here she was, able to be a fly on the wall and see exactly what Poppy and Annalise were like outside the context of work. Even better, she could join in. She could have perfectly friendly, chatty conversations with the two women who despised her, and they had absolutely no idea who they were conversing with.
It gave Frankie a weird voyeuristic pleasure.
She was also a member of MOP, had been for a long time. Her sister Lucy was one of the moderators of the group and she’d pushed her to join. She’d love Poppy and Annalise to meet Lucy. If they thought Frankie was the typical soccer mum, they’d be blown away by Lucy. She was the perfect parent. She married into money and didn’t have to work, which meant she could be there for anything and everything her children needed. She was also studying journalism, because once her kids were older she wanted to be able to get back into the workforce. If she wasn’t Frankie’s sister, Frankie would probably hate her. No. That wasn’t true actually, because here was the thing about Lucy – she was also nice.
MOP could be impressive in the way it drew a community of women together. Because in amongst all the incessant, repetitive posts about when you should stop giving your child a dummy, or cloth nappies versus disposable, or the pitfalls of fussy eaters or non-stop tantrums, there was also this wonderful sense of camaraderie.
Once, a mother had posted a late-night plea for formula for her baby because she’d run out and couldn’t leave the house, and five different women had all flown into action, dropping off several spare tins to her home. It was a beautiful thing to see unfold.
And when Hayley had been obsessed with the Woolworths animal collector cards and desperate to get hold of a ringtail possum card to complete her set, Frankie had popped a request up in the group, and a mother from just two streets away had responded within two minutes that she had a spare and would be happy to drop it into her letterbox the next day. Hayley had been delighted and for once Frankie had felt like she was a kick-arse mum.
On the other hand, there were also times when MOP could suck the life right out of her. Recently, Frankie had gone to MOP to vent about life as a working mum after Poppy and Annalise had made her feel awful for taking some time off to go along to a school event.
Does anyone else struggle with the non-parents at their work? I’ve got a part-time office job and a DD6 and a DS10 at home and I’m sick of being judged by the single women here who get pissed off any time I have to leave early or take time off for a school event or whatever. And by the way, I always catch up on my work after hours, plus my boss is fine with it, so what the hell does it even have to do with them? Anyway, sorry – just wanted to share and see if anyone else is dealing with the same sort of stuff. It’s getting me down today.
All she’d been after was a bit of ‘Chin up, love, you’ll be right’ – some validation that yes, it was tough, but yes, she’d get through it. She should have known it wouldn’t be that simple.
The first comment was great.
Yes! I’m with you 100%! I work in retail and not only do I have the 18-year-old high school or uni students getting pissed off with me if I nab the best shifts to fit in with my kids – ’cause apparently their homework is more important than me being home in time to tuck my babies in at night – but I also have the older women, who should understand cause they’re actually mums as well, but it’s just that t
heir kids are all grown up – but instead they want first pick of the shifts cause they’ve been working there longer!! Feel like I’m the enemy in my own workplace. SUCKS! Chin up, Mama!
She’d scrolled to the next comment.
I’m lucky enough to work in a family business, so I get to pick my own hours, but I can imagine your struggle. So sorry. Hugs.
It felt good; the tension melted away.
But then a comment stopped her short.
Don’t take this the wrong way hunnie. But I just don’t get why ppl even have kids if they’re not gonna stay home with them in those early yrs? I mean, if you make the choice to work for whateva reason – fair enuf, but don’t whinge about it if the rest of the world isn’t bending to make life easier 4 you. Sorry you’re having a rough time, but that’s just my opinion on it. If you want to spend the time with kids, quit your job and B there for them.
There was a reply below it.
Are you KIDDING me? Not everyone can afford to stay home with their kids!!
And then another.
Sorry, but that’s a little judgemental. Some mums need jobs to make money to, you know, actually FEED their children! Lol!
And one more.
I actually agree with this. You’re either a SAHM or a working mum. If you’re a working mum, you have a responsibility to your workmates, your boss, your career, to give it your all, not to keep slacking off and using your kids as an excuse to take days off. You’re the one who prioritised career over family, so now you have to follow through.
Frankie had wanted to hurl her phone across the room. She really wished she’d stopped reading before she’d got to that comment.
So there it was, the ugly side of MOP. Maybe she shouldn’t call it that. Maybe it’s not ugly, people having their own opinions. They had every right to, didn’t they? But why did they have to say those things when they knew they were just going to make you feel like shit?
That’s where NOP came in. A completely different vibe. Everyone within NOP was on each other’s side, because they all had a common enemy: mothers. There was no reason for the women in NOP to tear one another down, because they were too busy tearing down the women of MOP.
What had begun as a fun game, a chance to spy on Poppy and Annalise, turned into something else altogether. Frankie realised that she enjoyed taking on this different persona. Becoming Viv was like a drug to her. She got to cast off everything that currently defined her as ‘Frankie’ – mother, wife, PA. She envisaged a fantasy job for herself. She talked about fake dream holidays that she’d taken and more that she was planning. She invented hobbies and chatted in a way that was outside her own comfort zone. It wasn’t that she wished she didn’t have the life she had – she adored her family; she’d never want to give them up – but getting to pretend to be someone else was intoxicating. Frankie had heard how some actors could be shy and introverted until they stepped onto a stage and became someone else. That’s what this was like – she was stepping onto a stage.
But then in May those two worlds collided.
It was her sister Lucy who alerted her to the news. She was working at her desk when an iMessage popped up in the top right corner of her screen.
Check out the Da-RAMA happening on MOP right now!
Frankie opened up Facebook and clicked across to the group. While she waited for the screen to load, she typed a message back to Lucy.
What’s going on? Kids were so shitty with me yesterday BTW. Couldn’t come and watch special performance at assembly. Apparently it’s unforgivable.
The reply pinged back almost instantly.
Tell em to pull their heads in. You’re an awesome mum. Call me later and tell me more about it. But for now take a look at the pinned post from one of the other moderators at the top of MOP and you’ll see what I’m talking about.
The group page finally loaded properly. She saw the post Lucy was talking about and started reading.
MOP Moderator – Some of you might have read an article (link in comments below) about a new local women’s Facebook group that was apparently inspired by yours truly. Or should I say ‘ours truly’?! Because obviously MOP is a movement that has grown to be a part of all of us. This new group is called NOP and it was started by a local woman who was upset when she discovered she couldn’t join MOP because she’s not a mother. I know they say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but come on! Oh, and can I interrupt here to say that we can and do have some non-mothers within our fold!! Sometimes pregnant women join, so that they can get some advice pre-baby, and we have on occasion approved women who are having trouble conceiving. SO, there was no need for this woman to feel excluded. #JustSaying
Anyway, according to the article, this new group is very much EXCLUSIVE to non-mums. (How’s that for a bit of exclusion? Can you say IRONY?!) The main issue with NOP is that they use it to BITCH and WHINGE and COMPLAIN about US!
However, the good news is that the person who wrote the article is one of our very own members. So that means we have our own little spy who will continue to keep an eye on things.
Unfortunately, some of this animosity between MOP and NOP has also spilled out into ‘the real world’. A few members have told me they’ve been confronted when they’ve been out and about with their little ones by NOP members who are keen to judge their parenting. Really nasty stuff.
Therefore, I want to issue a bit of a warning to you all. It sounds to me like the women in this group are quite hostile. So please watch out for women who are looking to engage us mums in unnecessary arguments. Don’t let them pull you in – it will just ruin your day. And remember, the likelihood is: They’re JUST JEALOUS of us! Hopefully this group will fizzle out (their member numbers are about ten percent the size of ours) and we won’t have any more incidents. Chin up to anyone who has been personally affected by the NOP group, and remember: This too shall pass!
Peace and love.
Frankie was totally captivated. So. Someone else in NOP was a fake member like her? She wondered who. She texted Lucy again.
Oh wow, that is a bit of drama!
The dots flashed up, telling her Lucy was composing a reply.
Another message popped up, this time from her husband, Dom.
Hey if you do grocery shopping tonight use the St George credit card instead of the CBA one okay.
Sure thing. Frankie made a mental note.
Meanwhile Lucy came back to her. I know!! All very interesting :)
Frankie leaned back in her chair and rubbed her chin. Was this going to cause her problems? Would her fake profile be in jeopardy if Poppy and Annalise started trying to figure out who had infiltrated the group?
She glanced around to make sure there was no one nearby, then she leaned forward again, switched across to her fake Facebook account and checked in to NOP to see if there’d been any posts about this whole MOP thing on the other side. She hadn’t looked at NOP for a few days so she might well have missed something important.
She was about to start scrolling through the page when a notification popped up in the top corner of her screen. It was an email from Paul. The subject line was just:
See you in my office, please.
She hopped up immediately and strode in through his door.
‘Close it behind you, please.’
Frankie shut the door.
‘Just flick the blinds closed too, would you?’
‘Paul,’ she began, gently, carefully, ‘People will . . .’
‘Please.’
She closed the blinds.
Every day Frankie questioned if she was doing the right thing.
CHAPTER 25
It was the usual afternoon juggle – picking the kids up and remembering which day it was and therefore where to actually head to collect them. Frankie had a real mix of things set up to cover their care. Two days a fortnight they were at the on-site public-school care. One afternoon they were picked up by the Kids Club van and taken to a private centre and, wherever possi
ble, either her sister Lucy helped her out or Mandy, another mum at the school. But she still had to constantly coordinate different people, call in favours, and sometimes leave early to pick them up herself when she could. The frustrating part was that Dom didn’t have to be a part of the organisational hell. He just did his nine-to-five job and came home at the end of the day.
The kids were at another mum’s house today. And Frankie wasn’t proud of the fact that she didn’t really know this mum as well as she should in order for her to have her kids in her care. Okay, she didn’t know her at all. But she’d been stuck that afternoon after a friend had pulled out last minute, and that friend had offered to connect her with this other mum, Chelsea, who she assured Frankie was brilliant – very responsible, had kids at the school, great parent, great person, and would be happy to help out. Frankie had felt embarrassed asking for a favour from someone she barely knew, but she’d had no other choice.
Frankie rang the doorbell and waited for Chelsea to answer. The second the door opened, Frankie recognised her, and kicked herself for not putting the name to the face sooner. It was the P & C mum who’d guilted her into volunteering for the upcoming athletics carnival. Frankie had said no at first when Chelsea had approached her – for God’s sake, she had a job! Couldn’t these people understand that? But the look of judgement that had crossed Chelsea’s face . . .
‘I know, I know, it’s tough – I get it, I do,’ Chelsea had cooed at her, while Frankie nodded along, thinking, No you don’t, you don’t get it at all because you’re a stay-at-home mum and you have the time to turn up to any school event you want to! And I bloody well respect that, I honestly do! But you don’t respect my choices, do you?
Those Other Women Page 20
