Back to Work - Part 1

Tommy Tiernan, or perhaps it was Ed Byrne once said that "a career is what a car does when it's going off the road". As someone who has had a chequered career to say the least, Wine Goose thinks this is a masterful observation. Mr Q, on the other hand, has steadily climbed the career ladder since his first day in junior infants, and would dismiss this statement as trite. Since the arrival of the children, if questioned on the subject, I generally tell people that I have put my career 'on hold'. As if I could walk back into my old job after however many years, find everything suspended in time, and take up where I left off. Time waits for no woman. When faced with the reality of sleepless nights, endless feeding and nappy changes, I quickly realised that the act of combining all that with rushing out to work was best left to others. Mr Q snored through most of this period, sometimes enquiring how my night had been, but showing no signs of listening to the response. Each morning he donned a tailored suit with perfectly pressed shirt and tie, and swanned out the door to his important job.

And so, decision made, I stayed at home and concentrated on my role as a mother. Of course, there were times when I envied Mr Q as he walked out the door to escape the bedlam and wondered if I'd made the right decision. But we all muddled along and I was there for the important moments that 'working moms' miss out on, like the first smile and the first step. As someone once said to me during that period 'some of the days can seem very long but the years go by very quickly'.

Then all of a sudden five years have gone by and the kids are slightly less dependent on me, and Mr Q can now scramble eggs, so I can get out of the house for a few hours without having to write out pages of instructions, and I start wondering if I'll ever go back to work again. And if I do take that massive leap, what on earth am I going to do? Clearly, returning to my old job is out of the question. Not that much will have changed, but I have, and the time demands it placed on me are no longer an option.

Faced with a blank canvas, it's almost like being back in 5th form, when the Careers Master asked us to write out three choices in order of preference. Except that this time I won't be listing interpreter, translator or actor. Instead I'm more thinking Charity Queen. Although perhaps Ireland has enough of them, and the demands of being constantly photographed in a different dress with different make-up at a different Ball don't really seem all that charitable. Maybe politics then. So I consider joining the Green Party. I compost, I recycle, I abhor gas guzzlers. But do I really want to go out late at night knocking at doors, then down the road see my life being scrutinised by the media and have to dodge awkward questions about whether or not I inhaled. No I don't. Slightly disillusioned, and seeing my choice quickly narrowing down, so that the only real option is to become the middle-aged lady in accounts, I notice a small ad in the window of my local wine shop. 'Part time staff required - apply within.' Bravely I march in and spend some time browsing the shelves, for once focused more on the customer service than the job in hand - that of finding a passable bottle. Because wine critics always seem to consider Riesling a cut above the rest I pick up a bottle of Whitehaven Riesling 2005 and march up to the counter, where I mention to the Manager that I've noticed the ad. He's pleased, firstly congratulating me on my excellent taste in wine, then telling me that all he's looking for is somebody to help out on Saturday afternoons. When can I start? Next week.....

Incidentally I found the floral-petrol combination of the Whitehaven a little too exotic, but perhaps in time I will eschew all other grapes in favour of Riesling.