Anything is Possible

What if it all goes right before 9am?

Well then, anything is possible. Never has this felt truer for me than when I was sitting in the very grand lobby of the Wellcome Trust building in Euston, waiting for my Early Career Award fellowship interview to begin. If you have read my previous blog post, then you know a lot needs to happen before 9am for me to be anywhere without two babies in tow. My interview was at 9.15am, in a location 45mins from my flat (with no travel delays) and the outcome would be, I had been told many times, life changing if I could convince them to give me £800,000+ for me and my 5yr research programme.

Challenge Accepted.

I planned meticulously, breakfast, outfits, bags for nursery all prepared in advance. R&C were 16months old when I had my interview, it was July, so winter viruses were a distant, but vivid, memory and C had started walking, R of course taking his time with that one – we needed the buggy to get up the hill to nursery. I realised that I had about a 6-minute grace period, if I left the nursery after drop-off later than 8.06, I would be at serious risk of being late. Every time I thought about it, I had to do some deep breathing, and yet that meant I thought about it a lot – rather than the panel of 15 academics I would be facing, the intricate details of my slides or the potential consequences for my career if I embarrassed myself.

I could have (and there is a strong case for should have) emailed and explained and asked for a different time slot for an interview but I kind of couldn’t believe I had got one. I had been told so many times that these fellowships were very competitive, and I had got an interview. I was advised not to detail my real reasons for staying at the same institution (stable family life, husband’s job and childcare all local), I did, and I still got an interview. I felt like maybe the time I asked them to change it would be when they realised it had all been a big mistake. I just felt easiest to take it on.  

I arrived at the Wellcome Trust TEN MINUTES EARLY, without my children or any sign of their existence transferred onto my clothing – I was clean, my hair was the way I wanted it, and I was ON TIME. I was grinning when I walked into the building, absolutely giddy with the success of the situation. The 20-something guy who met me for my pre-interview chat was clearly taken aback, and I just kept thinking “I have done the hard part, I’m here – bring it on”. The absolute panic about the terrifying panel interview, my presentation, potential consequences for my career etc had only 5-10mins of headspace and it just didn’t really get anywhere because I kept thinking “I bloody did it, TEN minutes early, yessssss”. The interview went well, and I got it.

I was really reminded of this at the weekend, I had committed to a half-marathon, the first one in six years, in Paris, with the running club I have gradually got back to attending regularly after the twins. As I stood on the start line, I felt on top of the world – I had managed to do the training (thanks to babysitters, husband, friends and runs at funny times), I didn’t have a virus despite toddlers + childcare + winter, I didn’t have an injury despite so many months/years off running, my mother-in-law was looking after R&C while my husband did night shifts (a last minute threat of cancellation when we got that rota), the sun was shining and I was in Paris. When I signed up it felt like betting on my future self, and all the world needed to line up to make it happen, and it did, and then I ran a PB. Turns out motherhood is good for me after all!

Small versions of the half marathon and interview happen all the time, not every morning is an emotional rollercoaster – sometimes it’s easy, and I am at work early (honest!). Sometimes, one of them does something for themselves for the first time and they are so proud of themselves I am on cloud nine for them all day. Sometimes, they say “I love you Mummy” as I say goodbye and I feel like they value my role in the workplace, the model of feminism I am trying to bring into our home, and the poo I cleaned up this morning and a million other things besides and it is all just so worth it.

It has been hard to adapt to my plans being disrupted and changed by tiny humans, whether that is the long-awaited dinner out with an old friend, just the two of us, or an important work meeting with someone senior who has found some time for me at 9am. But when I make a plan, especially an ambitious one with a lot of potential positive impact for me and it actually happens – it feels amazing. After our first Winter in a Childcare Setting, which included a memorable GP appointment when I took R in to be checked for immunodeficiency because I just couldn’t believe how ill he was all the time. I stopped making plans because it all felt so futile, and this included travel for work and a lot of anxiety about new projects. I don’t think that helped, I think it was difficult to start doing things again after that, and there were many (small!) windows in there where I could have done something fun for myself, or interesting at work. Now I make plans, accept they might not happen and feel on top of the world when they do.

I think because all these things that might get in the way aren’t really discussed or if they are it is in vague terms like “childcare responsibilities” or “young family” it is sometimes difficult to celebrate these moments, or worse I might not even notice them! That thought has made me take a sharp intake of breath, a gasp if you will. It is so important for me to notice when everything goes right before 9am. To think about every shoe that went on quickly, each breakfast eaten in under 10mins with no mess, and the happy skip up the road to nursery, it’s such a good start to the day when it happens, and it really does mean anything is possible, because so much could have happened, happens all the time, to me, and today it didn’t.