Ok, so that didn’t make me feel better - I doubt anything will…

I missed my son’s debut on stage - he doesn’t cope well with huge crowds, but he made his stage debut and had a blast. Reindeer antlers, painted on red nose, brown top and trousers…great effort from the nursery by all accounts (that’s my husband, my mum, and a mum whose son goes to the same nursery as Josh…who actually made it to the BIG matinee performance).

It amazes when people trivialise parents attending their child’s school plays, nativity performances, barn sales… and maybe I used to be one of those people before I had my son, but the way I feel now, those thoughts are forever perished from my mind.Yes, he’s only two years old and won’t be scarred for life, but the fact is I wanted to be there. I wanted to see him on that stage with the rest of his peers, having a good old sing-song (well…), and because of work commitments, that choice was taken away from me.

A lot of people who don’t have children knock working mothers - they see us as forever skiving off by leaving work on time, or taking a day off because our child has a high temperature, and the rest. But what these people don’t appreciate is what goes on behind closed doors. Like being up at all hours of the night to tend to that same child when they are poorly, but still showing up at work - with a smile where it has no place - and the fact that, actually, us leaving work on time to catch the last train so we can get to the nursery on time is often not successful and we have to pay for that late privilege.

But today, what I feel is resentment at being in a position where I have to choose between my child and work. Obviously there is no contest - he will always come first. But how can I say that and mean it when I just missed his first stage debut?

www.MothersWhoWork.co.uk