When feeling particularly efficient in my professional days, I would write myself a ‘to-do list’ to power through as the day progressed. The List was not without its own internal structure. The first few items were absolutely, job-keeping essential; the ones further down, boss-pleasing but not critical, and those languishing at the bottom – well I could take or leave those for another week as time allowed. Beyond meetings and interruptions this list would shape my day, each ticked point a step closer to that sludgy floating feeling which comes when wearily shutting your computer down and slipping on your trainers to cycle home.

I no longer spend my days sitting at a desk, but I am aware of another ‘to-do list’ constantly rattling through my mind as an inner monologue. The New Mummy List starts the moment I wake up and fades only as I drive it out with a good book as I fall asleep at night. It too has its internal structure – (1) things that I must do to prevent all hell breaking loose; (2) things I would like to do for peace of mind and to stop the flat descending into a crumb-filled, greasy fingerprint marked pit, and (3) things that it would be fun for me but are, if I am absolutely honest, very unlikely to happen.

The items shift and change as the day passes and requirements change, each one weighed up against the existing circumstances. What are the children doing? Can I get on with something? How long do I have until they need my attention again? Each action is balanced against other possibilities, slotted in as circumstances allow – “I must make porridge, but if the children are happy playing in the other room, I may also get the chance to wash up the milk bottles at the same time. If the children are unhappy, I shall have to entertain them in the kitchen whilst the porridge cooks.” Even when the children are in bed my time is set out as a series of compromises, “The children are in bed but might wake up. It is more likely they wake up an hour after we have put them to bed. I would rather be interrupted whilst eating than whilst showering – so I shall shower now.”

How dull I sound. I sometimes wonder to where my capacity for deep thought has disappeared, but then I cast my mind back to the old List and don’t think that was always more profound than these items I am marching through now. Perhaps my approach to motherhood is merely the result of my professional experience. Other people – less compelled to write things down – may well approach their work and caring for their children in a very different way. But it seems that my time will always be divided up, eked out and its activities compromised. I don’t say this with regret, mind you. No, there is a pleasure in getting things done and doing them well and seeing everyone happy at the end of the day.
Enough for today – a shower and the news seem more important than elaborating further.