Rush or Recharge? Why what happens when school starts isn't a done deal

One day towards the end of January a few years ago, I braved the shops with a toddler on my hip. Scores of dazed-looking women walked past me, some giving me a weak smile, others seemingly somewhere else altogether. I couldn’t quite figure it out, until I spoke to my retail worker friend later. “Ah yes, the first day of school,” she said knowingly. “We see it every year. There’s always a stream of red-eyed women walking aimlessly… it’s as if the mothers who stayed home don’t know what to do with themselves!”

I remember thinking how far off that seemed, and maybe you are reading this thinking the same... until suddenly you blink and it's happening!

This year, that toddler I was carrying was the child starting school, and I joined the ranks of the teary mothers waving goodbye to their small-big school kids. Some mothers were heading to work after drop off, possibly frustrated by the disruption that school’s far-less-flexible-than-long-daycare hours brings to their routine. Some parents were set for a day looking after younger ones, testing out how a new weekday family schedule might work around a daily drop-off and pick-up situation. Some of us though – largely those who have been primarily an at-home-through-the-week caregiver as I have - suddenly found ourselves without a little hand to hold and five and a half entire hours to kill.

[This article is primarily for and in reference to the experience of that last group of mothers and default parents, but if you’re in one of the former groups, I trust there will be something helpful in here for you too, particularly in the closing "ideas" section.]

In case you’re wondering, I didn’t go to the shops on the first day of school, but I empathise with those who did.

Maybe they felt a combination of pride, hope that they’d done enough, and fear about what the big wide world of school might serve up for their kid.

Maybe they were reflecting on what this change meant for their identity and how even though the days are long the years really are short.

Maybe they were giving themselves a big pat on the back for surviving the intensity of those earliest years, and trying not to get too caught up in the whole thing because the work remains far from over.

Maybe they were hosting an internal wrestling match, as their deep desire to (finally!) get some rest faced up against the reality of bills to pay and/or the internalized voice of productivity culture telling them to fill up as many of those not-very-job-friendly school hours as possible with paid work ASAP (or at the very least do the groceries and deep clean the house).

Maybe though, they were exploring a long-forgotten feeling – freedom.

I don’t mean freedom in the sense of “complete absolution of responsibility”. Any parent who has coordinated both drop off and pick up on the same day will tell you that school hours are actually quite short. If you are a default parent, you also can’t totally switch off, because you know you’re still on call to pick them up if they’re sick. Deep down you also know (and sometimes try to forget) that if school really doesn’t work for your kid, you might need to figure out a home education situation that leaves you with even less time to yourself than before.

For some mothers though, the first day of school may be the first time since their child was born that they haven’t needed to justify where they were going, why they were going there or what they were doing with their child-free time to anyone.

Up until the commencement of formal schooling, mothers are expected (or at least often feel compelled) to have a good reason for their child to be in the care of someone else. Child Care Subsidy depends on meeting an "activity test" of work, formal study or similar activities, implying that any respite from caring work must be earned through alternative labour. When it comes to unpaid childcare support from friends or family members, things like attending medical appointments, employment or an occasional "date night" are generally considered socially acceptable reasons, while wandering around clothing shops is not.[1] This is a shame because you know what’s almost impossible to do with children? Go shopping for clothes!

I don’t love clothes shopping, but I am also not a nudist, and bras, t shirts, swimsuits etc. don’t last 5+ years.[2] I know this, because I am still wearing many of the same things I had in my cupboard when my school starter was born, and they now have large holes in them! If you've got "spirited" kids like mine, you've likely known a long time you need to get some new things (and don't want to deal with the admin of the returns process when most of what you bought online doesn't fit), and haven't even bothered trying because the whole process of shopping with said kids is a kind of fresh hell.

This might seem like an exaggeration or detour from the storyline, but the point I’m getting to is this: maybe the women wandering the shops on that first day of school weren't in a state of "not knowing what to do with themselves" at all, but were instead finally doing the thing they'd been wanting to do for themselves for years!

Of course, shopping isn't going to be top of everyone's to-do list. That first day of school though, so many activities that have been blocked by care work – an uninterrupted conversation with a friend! ocean swimming past thigh level! meditating for longer than 2 minutes! engaging in activism beyond signing a petition! slowly perusing the library! running errands without 60235 questions and 3 toilet trips!  – have the potential to move from the category of "long-ago memory" to that of "immediate possibility".

I realise this may seem flippant to some readers, especially as most mothers do rejoin the workforce or up their hours when their youngest child starts school. I also don't want to pretend financial pressures doesn’t exist, or that everyone has the same access to rest and leisure. I’m not discounting the non-financial value of work to individuals (including me) either, or promoting a slide towards tradwife-ism.

I do however want to make it known that after 6+ smothering years of having at least one child in, on or with you for the vast majority of your waking AND sleeping hours, it’s not a moral failing to spend some precious hours, days, weeks or even the entire transition to school year taking it slow. I'll say it another way: if it is financially possible for you to spend a little or a lot of time recouperating and reconnecting with yourself (particularly in light of the morning rush and the big feelings that are probably coming home most afternoons) it is more than okay to do so. You have worked your butt off for years on end, and do not need to immediately fill every available minute with paid work to justify your existence.

We live in a society that loves to instruct mothers on how to think about their own worth, time and money, and views all of these as linked. Rather than unquestioningly following the expected path of what we’re told we should do (i.e. paid work) when a child starts school (or care of another kind), it can be empowering to take the countercultural step of considering the possibilities of what we could do instead. We may decide paid work is indeed what we need or want to do, but we might also decide we need to go to the top of the priority list for a brief or extended time, and these are all morally neutral[3] paths to take.

That said, after spending years focusing largely on what everyone else needs, it might be hard to figure out not only what we could do but what we might actually want to do. If this is your situation, here are a list of ideas to get you started. Some of these ideas may be accessible to you even if you engage in paid work and/or have younger children with you for much of the week.

• Grab some paper or a journal and do some unfiltered free writing. If you like, you can write about how you are feeling about the years that have passed since you became a mother or parent, or about the school transition itself. You are welcome to use some of the following sentence starters, setting a timer for 2 minutes for each prompt, allowing yourself to free write uncensored.
  
  • "To me, the transition to school is..."
  • “The last [choose a time period] have been…”
  • “The things I want to remember most from the early years are…”
    
  • “I have learnt so much about myself, including…”
    
  • “I am proud of myself for…”
  • “I am looking forward to…”
• If you're not a writer, you can do the above exercise as spoken voice recording on your phone (just for yourself or to send someone else) or simply spend a while considering each prompt. You might be surprised by what comes up!
• Take yourself on a date (well, you can take a friend, family member or coparent too if you like) to your favourite café, and enjoy either the peace or the kinds of conversations you can’t have with kids around.
• Go to a place that makes you feel at ease, either natural or built, and enjoy it on your own time schedule.
• Lie down. You don’t have to nap necessarily, but having a rest while watching your favourite show or listening to a meditation recording or yoga nidra might be lovely. You could even do this outside lying on a towel, picnic blanket, hammock or trampoline if they’re available and enjoyable for you. [A note that resting may feel very uncomfortable at first, and you may need to practice resting for short periods of time on a regular basis until it feels pleasant.]
• Move your body in a way you want to. Have you wanted to do a proper bike ride, instead of one that stops every ten metres for kids? Maybe you want to go for a bushwalk, try that rockclimbing place, go to daytime yoga or dive through a wave? Now is your chance to do it.
• Finally book those health appointments (psychology, pelvic floor physio, extended postpartum doula care etc.) you’ve been ignoring forever.
• Pick up the book that’s been top of your list for the last three years.
• Go to a decidedly non-kid-friendly film (guilt-free) and have all the popcorn for yourself (also guilt-free).
• Bring out that hobby, craft, art or similar activity that’s been packed away in the back of the cupboard since your firstborn arrived, or try a new one.
• Rip the weeds out of your neglected veggie patch, or give your ignored pot plants some TLC.
• Do home things that’ve been frustrating you for an eternity (e.g. decluttering the worst cupboard, minor repairs) but at a pace that feels good while listening to music, podcasts, audiobooks etc. of your own choosing.
• Join in a circle - they're not just for those with tiny babes! My next one is in May if you want to come.

Remember too that if it remains impossible to do these things now, you can always come back to them later. While I don't recommend letting your needs slide down the list indefinitely, recovering from early-years parenting is not a time-limited task where if you "miss the boat" the opportunity will be lost forever (although it is suggested that doing so before perimenopausal symptoms hit can make that experience much more tolerable). Rest and replenishment will still be there when you are ready and able to access them - please continue to search for the opportunities and grab them with both hands whenever they arise.

To everyone who waved off a school starter this term, I want to acknowledge and celebrate all you have done to raise your kids to this point. I extend these same congratulations and recognise the efforts of those mothers and parents of kids commencing home schooling as well. I’m very proud of us all!

Whatever your employment status or your child's education situation, I hope you will allocate whatever time you can to mark this time of change, honour your own efforts, and do whatever small or big things you need to recharge. If you’re comfortable doing so, you could encourage your friends to do the same or mention what you're doing and why - hearing these ideas might be just what they need to grant themselves some TLC time too.

We all deserve to be celebrated, to be acknowledged, to rest. Sometimes we have to give these gifts to ourselves. Well done to us all.

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Thanks to Emmeline Tyler for assisting me with this article. I highly recommend their concise article “Three Myths About Money and Parenthood”, which explores the gendered assumptions that can sneak up on all parents (including progressive, feminist and queer ones) regarding caregiving and workforce participation, decisions about earning and expenditure and more, and provides context for many of the topics discussed above.

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Footnotes

[1] This is not to say mothers and default parents are only entitled to ask for care under certain circumstances, but moreso to point out that from the get go, the assumption is that we will provide care all the time, 24/7, unless we make arrangements otherwise. It can be easy to feel like we are asking for “too much” of others without a “good reason” to be away from our child(ren), and to feel guilty for asking others to provide care, wanting to be away from our child, enjoying being away from our child, and more. You can listen to my interview with Dr Sophie Brock titled "Exposing the Institution of Motherhood" for more on this topic, or dive into the chapter on "Guilt" in my book “Mama, You’re Not Broken: Unmasking the Unspoken Emotions of Modern Motherhood” (this link will take you to the free audio of this chapter .

[2] It’s true that all these things can be bought online, but to get them, you need enough time and brain power to go through the selection and check out process. When they arrive, they don’t always fit, and doing the returns process is hard while caring for children, etc. Essentially, even if it sounds easy online shopping can still be hard, so sometimes it doesn’t get done.

[3] "Morally neutral" is a phrase used by KC Davis, author of "How to Keep House While Drowning". This is her website and TED talk.