Wrestling with work and family - Janet Christie's Mum's the Word

Mum's the Word. Pic: Getty ImagesMum's the Word. Pic: Getty Images
Mum's the Word. Pic: Getty Images
Working from home can be a physical as well as mental challenge

I'm working away at home diligently, bothering no-one, fingers on the keyboard, eyes on the screen, oblivious to anything around me when suddenly Youngest has me in what I believe is called a head lock. She’s approached silently, ninja style, and I'm choking.

"Tap out, tap out," I can hear her saying over the blood roaring in my ears.

“I am tapping!” Because I'm typing. See, diligent.

"No! Tap on my arm," she says.

I tap frantically.

"No, only twice."

Gasping for breath I follow instructions.

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"OK." She releases me. "It's a wrestling term. You'll need to know that," she says and exits.

"Come back!" I shout, as fear and alarm catalyse gabbling:

"Why will I need to know wrestling terminology? Have you signed us up for Muay Thai again? You know I broke my toe kicking that pendulum weight thing last time because yes, I did it wrong, but also ‘cos I'm too short and can't get my leg high enough. Unlike you who could kick an apple off my head, yes that is a thing, OK a bean bag, that's a thing too, we had them at school before single use plastic, and I've seen you 'fake' kick your brothers in the face, remember that nice birthday meal we had, walking down the street after... and to be honest I really liked the fitness training at the start after a few weeks of agony, being able to do a plank, eventually was brilliant. But you were a bit aggressive, so maybe if they pair me with one of those nice man mountains instead because they had great advice about buttocks and planking.

“Stop!” she says, back in the room. “Too much. I'm just bigger than you. And you need to be more aggressive, generally, in life, not so passive.”

“Yes, you’re absolutely right, about everything. But why do I need to know wrestling terms? What’s happening?”

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“Don't worry about it,” she says and exits with a plate of fishcakes.

But I am worried about it. It's all I can think about. I know, I'll sign us up for wrestling, stay one step ahead so I won't be caught out. Again.

She returns for more fishcakes.

“I'm signing us up for wrestling,” I tell her.

“Really? Why? Nah, I don't fancy it. You go though if you want to. You were great until you bumped your toe last time.”

Dare to be Honest
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