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I’ve worked full time outside the house this week. What with all the family business involvement I’ve also been working more daytime hours for several months now. It’s doing my head in.

I’ve always wanted to be around for my children. I have sometimes wondered, guiltily, if I want this to avoid thinking about serious career decisions but currently I am sure that is not the case. I want to have the flexibility so I can be here when they need me, such as now when Third-and-Final-Son is groaning on the sofa with a stomach bug.

I have also realised, these last few weeks, that I like being able to clean my house a little bit. Stop laughing siblings – my home may not look like something from House & Garden, but the floors used to be clean, the dogs got a good walk every day and there was homemade cake.  Now everything is both dirty and untidyand it drives me bananas. I’m even grumpy as I go out in the morning because I have no time to do anything but fill lunchboxes and put out the washing before going to work. AND all my jeans feel tight because I’m not getting out with the dogs for so long.

So, the conclusions I have come to: For the next couple of years, until Third is at university, I want interesting part-time work, primarily home based, with some flexibility so I can run round after my boys.

BUT. I need an income. A much better income than I am currently making, despite all the out of the house hours.

And needs trump wants.



You can’t keep us away from the sea:

That’s Firstborn Son with m’mother, perched on rocks on Filey Brigg (the link gives you much more info about the brigg than I can be bothered to type).

The clay covers the rocky promontory for about half a mile, then the rocks extend much further out into the North Sea.

It’s a great place for rockpooling.

The blue of sea and sky was absolutely perfect. I could feel my inner Viking wanting to dive into a longboat and sail out to the beautiful blue of the horizon.

The brig curves a little, so although the tide is coming in we’re not cut off from land just yet.

Waves getting a little bigger.

And now it’s time to head back in.

I'm Mugsy. That's Bugsy. You don't get no hugsy.

Some days, when working at the family business, I feel all bright and happy. Like I’m achieving something. Like I’m making something cute and beautiful (see above). The subjects of my work may not appreciate it overmuch, but I reckon my efforts are making them lovely.

And then there are the days when I feel like a dog howling at the moon:

(The pug picture is courtesy of the amazingly wonderful Cute Overload blog. I borrowed the howling from another blog).

Edited to add a PS: On reflection it is not just family business which makes me want to howl – it’s all bloody business. Including my own.

PPS: This morning I reached for a book (to read in the bath) and found myself with Dick Francis’ Hot Money in my hand. Anyone interested in family dynamics should read this book, it is awesome – which is why I’m reading it for possibly the 200th time.