The Rambo Circus of Working Parenthood

Aah, Friday—the smell of freedom after a murderous five-day week of office and school. It is murder every single day with a variety of files and strange (and not-so-strange) homework to close before the end of every working day. Sometimes, work and school are both in crisis, with notebooks running out of pages or five different photographs of transportation needing to be taken to school before the new week starts.

The list of tasks is never-ending. As I always say, someone is always crying somewhere, and mummy always has to come to the rescue—both mommies: the mommy at work and the mommy representing the school. The work has to be finished quickly with a "there, there" maternal tap on the back to encourage good behaviour from all stakeholders involved. Children, the whole lot of them—the one at home and otherwise!

It's a lot to absorb and conquer before 9 PM every night. But what is life without juggling and overwork? I didn't sign up to be a little potato waiting to be boiled in a pressure cooker, ready to be mashed inside the bhaji and presented on a plate with pav. No, I'm happy to be the maker of the bhaji who presents the plate of pav bhaji to a customer. I've always loved to be in charge—however chaotic.

On that note, welcome to the crazy life of every single working parent in the world. We are jugglers of work and life. At this point, someone needs to pay us to be the circus clowns at Rambo Circus because we throw so many multicoloured balls into the air and catch every single one of them without dropping. At least the clowns get clapped for and applauded by a wonderful audience, while we undergo quiet labour without so much as a whistle, let alone clapping. Sigh! 

Anyway, thank God it's Friday, and I'm grateful to close yet another murderous week of school and work drama.