"Mummy doesn't know what she's doing"

"Mummy doesn't know what she's doing", commented my three-year-old son to the general public as I made a dash out of the house for the bus the other morning, with only one return back inside to grab a forgotten key.

He said it with that particular matter-of-fact tone kids use when they're making an observation. "Mummy, that lady has a big nose". "Mummy, you've got pimples on your face". "Mummy, that man's dog looks like a rat".

I was crestfallen. The morning had involved hanging out a load of washing; helping his Dad get he and his sister fed, dressed and packed for school and daycare; a quick review of work emails; and a half hour of embarrassing attempts at burpees in an effort to keep up a lockdown exercise regime. Plus, I had washed my hair. A+ success. Or so I thought.

His comment stayed with me during the day and, I couldn't asking myself what I am doing wrong if my three-year-old is declaring to the world at large that I don't have it together?

It has taken me the six years of my daughter's life to fully comprehend the fallacy that is the concept of "Lean In" and the idea that any caregiver, but particularly Mums, can have it all without being, well, billionaires. And even then I am not convinced. I have come to accept that my life with kids and paid work is more akin to contortionism in a small box that constantly smells vaguely of urine than the fragrant, expansive and efficient scenes I had imagined for myself.

And I am OK with that. In fact, I've come to prefer the messiness and the constant reinvention. Primarily because the dogma about who or what women 'should' be is extremely limited (read: exclusionary) and really, really boring.

I am not yet OK with the idea that I don't know what I am doing, because I am holding all the pieces together, making progression in my career and still keeping relatively upbeat, so surely that's doing 'it' well?

But the more I thought about what my son said, and his perspective, the more I thought that he may be on to something.

I don't know what I am doing.

And maybe that's OK too.

I know what I aspire to. I know what values I take with me. I know what I enjoy. I know what my skills are. I know how to make an effective contribution.

But as for the exact steps to the dance? There are a lot to learn, and really most of us just have to improvise along the way. We're kidding ourselves if we think we can fully control the outcomes of our day, let alone our lives. COVID-19 has brought the fullness of that reality home to us. It took 48 hours for our society to completely change as we knew it. We don't know what we're doing, but we're all learning as quickly as we can to overcome a situation that was unthinkable in February.

So, I am going to celebrate showing my son that I am really just making it up as I go along - running for the bus, wet hair, forgotten keys and all. And I hope that when I trip up or fall over, he will know it's all part of what it means to be a Mum, an employee, a human finding their place and navigating the extraordinary times we are living in.