I mean, I took the job, without any qualifications, no trial period, no clear objectives and only the basic rudimentary training. Initially I was happy just to get through a day without being found out and given a written warning. I wasn't sure how many strikes I would get before I was out, but there was always that uncertainty hanging over my head, waiting to be tripped up by something unexpected or really random.
The infuriating thing is I didn't really have a boss, no line manager to report to, get a bit of coaching from or reassurance that I was on the right track. I would have to stumble through the day, trying to work out for myself what the priorities were and whether they were going to change at any minute. What was I thinking, taking this job on?
I may have been sold on the job description (abbreviated edition), where you get unconditional rewards, annual bonuses and job satisfaction. What wasn't explicit were the key responsibilities, the working hours, the thankless tasks, the repetitive jobs that sap every ounce of patience from your soul.
After a throwaway comment to the Mr where I failed to have a washed and ironed duvet cover for the Princess, "So sack me", I decided it was about time I was appraised in my position as Parent. In order to do this however I require objectives. Having no boss to write these for me I have (albeit after the event) written my own, thus:
- Feed them when they are hungry
- Spend more time with them than blogging/on twitter.
- Wipe their bums and noses.
- Count to 10 before screaming at them for their misdemeanors.
- Wrap them in love.
And here's where I have to be very honest and give myself an appraisal, remembering to be constructive in any/all criticism.
- I feed them. I provide food on plates 3 times a day. I provide food out of packets and biscuit tins at what feels like 30 minute intervals between the 3 plate full of food. I provide sustenance contained in either a coffee cup or a tall glass for myself as required. So far they have grown, judging by the rate at which clothes need to be provided, and only complain of being hungry 15 times a day. Result: Satisfactory.
- This was a no brainer with the first child. Twitter wasn't even invented yet and I didn't know a blog from a bog. With the second child I was blissfully ignorant of social media. So result: Outstanding. But then came the Wee One, and *ahem* twitter started winking at me, and then I was told I could write and I should start a blog. So technically you could say I was led astray. Current result: when the kids are awake I am hitting a good average in their favour. And when the kids are asleep, well the Mr is neglected but he isn't part of the objective so I still score!
- Noses are clean and bums are sparkling. This is one objective I can say I have absolutely achieved. I should have shares in baby wipes and kleenex. Admittedly the younger model is still reliant on nappies but potty training is one of my short term goals. Result: Outstanding.
- Hmmm. Patience. Actually, I am quite glad I haven't been appraised on this objective until now. It is a skill that has taken a considerable amount of time to master. Initially I felt this objective was completely irrelevant, and then the sweet innocent little bundles grew up a bit and suddenly it seemed the most relevant. I have had considerable practice and it is starting to come a little easier now. Result: Satisfactory but do not become complacent.
- Yes. That. And a bit more. Consider them smothered. Although that may not be good. Breathing should be an objective too, shouldn't it? Result: Outstanding.
If you had to give yourself objectives, what would they be? And, how do you fare against them?