Women are amazing

 Women are amazing.

Running a home, raising children, Holding down a job, Developing a career, Maintaining an education, Meal planning, Housework, Monitoring their child’s medical conditions, Managing their own medical conditions, Earning enough money to pay for the home and the food and those parts of the prescriptions for everyone that the NHS full short of. Making sure that child’s dinner card has enough money on it considering what everyone wants for Christmas presents cleaning the home in time for Christmas mentoring other young upcoming professionals, Using what resources they have for creative output keeping clean getting dressed maintaining an acceptable or professional appearance meeting those social expectations. My baby daddy gets himself up and goes to work. He calls me half a job, Bigg. I was reminded of this this morning as I turned the items in the dishwasher over so they could drain and dry properly, While boiling the kettle for a cup of tea to take my medication with, Glory in the fact that I am managing to manage my medical conditionand laying out my son’s lunch for his packed lunch as he got himself ready for school. I know that at 15 he can do his own lunch but with his diabetes diagnosis is only three and a bit years ago he needs to have time in the morning to measure his blood sugars and calculate his insulin and injected himself, and I want to be there to support him so that he can focus on what is important which is his healthcare . I’m there while he ignores me, because he’s a teenager, staring at his phone and tell him I love him every morning before he leaves . This is a privilege that his father could have, but he elects not to. All the while I’m doing half a job I’ve brought some laundry down with me and left it on the kitchen floor so the dishwasher is half unloaded and the washing is half ready to go. Half a job, Bigg he calls me. But it’s really all the jobs, Bigg. And I achieve them stage by stage phase by phase as I also manage my mental health I’m getting absolutely everything done, clean uniforms every day, a home-cooked meal every day a decent wage every day. All the bills paid. A warm home. Clean toilets and hygienic . My boy takes a sandwich and fruit and veg to school every single day. Wearing a clean uniform. In good quality shoes that fit him well. Sometimes I think of my own mother. She too worked very hard. while my dad lived with us Both a set of social norms where the woman does the work as well as going to work and dad’s disability, Which was physical as opposed to mums which was mental, And therefore dad’s disability counted and mum’s didn’t. Much in the same way as dad’s work counted and mums didn’t.