Every so often, friends or family members tell me about opportunities for freelance work. Some of the suggestions – the ones that could help me build a writing career – would appeal even if I was childless and working full-time. Others – training to be a translator or proofreader, for instance – probably wouldn’t. But they’re not supposed to: their biggest selling point is that I can work from home while caring for my daughter.<\/p>\n
Before I was a parent, it sounded like such a good idea. Rather than having to choose between going out to work and staying at home with my hypothetical child, I could combine both. No need to wonder whether my baby was safe and contented – a glance across the room could put my mind at rest. No need to worry that I was financially dependant on someone else – I would have the security of my own income source.<\/p>\n
What I didn’t realise – what I had to learn from firsthand experience – was how intensive the job of looking after a small child is. In my vision of parenthood, the work consisted mainly of physical chores such as washing clothes and preparing meals; in practice the physical work is the easiest part. In addition to the chores, taking care of a child requires a level of concentration that doesn’t sit well with an attempt to build a freelance career.<\/p>\n
While my daughter’s awake, she wants my attention. If she doesn’t have it, she quickly realises this and makes sure she regains it by letting out a cry that’s virtually impossible to ignore. For short spells, if I’m doing something I don’t need to think deeply about, I can block out the cries; shutting them out effectively enough to finish an essay is beyond me. And even if, by some miracle, she’s too absorbed in her play to miss my attention, I know she could wriggle into difficulties at any moment. Watching her out of the corner of one eye, constantly alert for the early warning signs that she’s about to need my help, pretty much prevents me concentrating on whatever it was I wanted to write.<\/p>\n
That only leaves the times when my daughter’s asleep to work on my freelance projects. And here the problem boils down into one that’s familiar to any woman who does paid work: the second shift. Whether I work on freelance projects or not, I need to spend a certain amount of time on my daughter and associated chores. Trying to add freelance work to the mix means effectively trying to do two jobs at the same time – with exhaustion the predictable result.<\/p>\n
But although this arrangement has the same disadvantages the working mother suffers, it doesn’t offer the corresponding advantages. My freelance projects will be speculative, at least initially, so the dream of financial independance remains just that. And, by not going out to work, I’m isolating myself with no colleagues and no potential change of scene. It seems I’ve combined the worst of working with the worst of staying at home.<\/p>\n
I’ve heard some people make a success of freelancing with children. I don’t know whether they have money in the bank, contracts in hand, or just a partner willing to subsidise them until their projects get off the ground, but it seems they have something<\/b> I’m missing. For me, working from home is all problems and no solutions. I’m thinking of training as a teacher instead.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Every so often, friends or family members tell me about opportunities for freelance work. Some of the suggestions – the ones that could help me build a writing career – would appeal even if I was childless and working full-time. … Continue reading