Working Mum: Another half-term, another stand-in parent
COMMENTBy Tabitha Ronson
It's the dreaded half term holiday. Once again I am in work and Master A is being farmed out to, well, whoever will have him.
Yes, I feel like the worst mum in the world. It's at times like these when I feel like jacking in my job and becoming another White Dee (seriously, how do these people manage to claim so much?)
I would love to have the spare money to jet off on a sun-drenched holiday, quaffing bottles of pink Moet, but, hey, I work, pay a mortgage and have a six-year-old son to support and care for.
I'm depressed - does that mean I can start claiming?
I do question the logic of our benefits system. I don't blame the people tapping into it, I blame those who are allowing it. But that's a whole different matter.
Yesterday, I dropped off Master A at his best friend Tom's house.
His mum, like me, works. We tend to juggle the holiday periods together. I'll take off a day here and there over these periods and look after her son, she does the same.
It works with both of us only having to rely on a third party once or twice in a week (that's normally when I have an emergency dentist appointment, or a migraine, I've even been known to have a suspected peritonitis just to keep those plates spinning).
When I dropped Master A off the mummy was rushing out the door to work.
"It's OK, Dan [her husband] will look after them today!"
Inside my stomach churned.
Her husband, Master A's friend's dad, is a bear of a man, who makes Jack Dee look like the King of Carnivale. I fretted about Master A the whole day, wondering what peril awaited.
After work, I couldn't get to him quick enough, relieved when I did that he was smiling and full of the day's adventures.
He gabbled all the way home.
"... oh, and then Tom's daddy beat Evie [Tom's eight-year-old sister] with his belt!"
I dropped Master A off at his Grandma's today.
Working Mum, wondering just what to do with that type of information.