Being a mum over 40: a day in the life of juggling work, family, and sanity

I’ve often heard the phrase “being a mum is a full-time job,” but for me, as a new mum over 40, it feels closer to two-and-a-half full-time jobs. Even in my “free time,” I fill it with tasks and the invisible mental load. Weekends aren’t much different, they come with their own deadlines, just dressed in gym leggings instead of office wear. In total, I get maybe two hours and thirty minutes a week that are purely mine, and I guard them fiercely at the gym, trying to stay fit and sane.

With it being International Women’s Day today, a moment to celebrate women’s achievements across the globe, I’ve paused my relentless news-ticker to-do list to share my day with you. Because it’s comforting to know other women understand this delicate juggling act.

6am: news and nudges

After no more than six hours of interrupted sleep, my alarm goes off. Little Cyrus has already contributed to the night’s chaos. Still in bed, I scroll Feedly, Twitter, and LinkedIn, thinking about straightening my hair but ultimately scraping it back. Google alerts next, scanning for competitor news, marketing updates, or story inspiration. Quick wash, dab of “war paint,” and I’m ready.

6.30am: toddler logistics

I nudge my two-and-a-half-year-old, giving him a few moments to wake. Clothes laid out the night before, a teddy, two bunnies, three nappies, and an empty bottle under one arm, I carry him downstairs swaddled in his blanket with the other. Mornings blur, but somehow we survive.

7am: breakfast and battle stations

Breakfast is a fast affair: crumpets, an apple, milk, and mixed nuts. While Cyrus watches Mr Tumble, I pack lunches and vitamins for him, H, and myself. Coffee goes cold while I help Cyrus dress, a daily patience test when socks and shoes come into play. H leaves for work before me.

7.20am – 8.45am: commute and inbox prep

Postman Pat ends, it’s time to head out. Walking to nursery provides fresh air and a second, much-needed coffee. Nursery opens with the usual meltdowns, tears, and scrambling to get through the door. The bus ride to work is my mini office, eyebrows occasionally touched up, LinkedIn scrolled, emails answered, tweets sent.

9am – 1pm: work mode activated

Desk-bound and caffeinated with a four-shot latte, I check Buffer for social data, Tweetdeck for mentions, and review press releases ready to send. Calls start: reporters, contacts, collaborators. Weekly scrum meeting: updates, overlaps, priorities. Then it’s straight into feature writing, client feedback, and three press releases a week. Editing, research, caffeine refills. The day marches on.

1pm – 5pm: juggling projects and parenting alerts

Draft revisions arrive. Feedback is a gift. Social media check-ins, emails, meetings. Nursery calls: bump on the head, chickenpox in the class. Ideas for aspirational projects percolate in the back of my mind while the day continues its relentless pace. By 5pm, the Wunderlist is reorganised, reminders set, bus ride home underway.

6.15pm – 9pm: home stretch

Home. Little C greets me with a smile and a hug. Dinner, Skype calls, bath time, domestic harmony for a fleeting hour. Party invites, shopping lists, dishes, bedtime stories. Peppa Pig, again. Evening prep: reflection, soak in the bath, maybe Netflix and dark chocolate. Twenty minutes of me-time before tomorrow begins. Another day survived.