The demise of stay at home mums IS harming children

AND I’M AS GUILTY AS ANY WORKING MUM

SOMETIMES in life you just have to smash the glass and pull the emergency brake, even if it means incurring the wrath of some of your fellow passengers.

That is precisely what esther Rantzen, founder of Childline, did the other day when she wrote an article outlining in stark terms the psychological repercussions on children of having both parents who work.

‘time is the greatest gift we can give our own children, yet in Britain today it is the scarcest resource we have, especially for working parents,’ she said.

‘these days most parents work, often long hours,’ she continued. ‘i remember speaking to a teenage boy who was suffering very serious problems. i suggested to him his mother would want to know.

‘He replied: “When she gets home from work she’s so tired she can’t talk to me.” i asked if the weekends might give them the chance to talk. “she works in a shop,” he told me. “she never has a day off.” ’

i don’t imagine Rantzen’s comments will have won her many fans among hardline feminists. But her concerns bear serious consideration. After all, her experience in the field of troubled children is unique.

Childline is 30 years old, the first initiative of its kind — a dedicated service for children where, free from adult influence, they can talk openly and honestly about their problems. it is perfectly placed to have an unbiased view of what troubles them and of the cause of those troubles.

Barely a week seems to go by without another report claiming rising levels of anxiety and depression among young people. And unlike when Childline began, these feelings are not so much triggered by abuse or neglect (although that still happens far too often) but rather a generalised sense of unease and worry. so what’s causing this? According to the experts at Childine, there are a number of factors at play, not least the impact of the internet and social media on the developing mind.

But there is something else, too, a far less headline-grabbing but in many ways more complex problem: parental absence and, in particular, the absence of a mother figure.

ALOVING, nurturing, caring person in their lives, someone to set boundaries, lend structure, provide support and encouragement — and create a calm, safe environment in which they can flourish.

Childline carried out 22,456 counselling sessions in 2016 with children as young as ten who were suffering suicidal thoughts, up 15 per cent from the previous year. this sharp increase points to one thing: children simply don’t know who to turn to any more.

in the past, there was never much confusion about who was in charge of pastoral care in the home. such a person used to be called a housewife, and many women saw it as a privilege to carry that title.

it meant being a home-maker, a mother, a matriarch, shaping the lives of those around you, passing on your wisdom and knowledge, nurturing — and yes, at times putting others before yourself.

As Rantzen points out: ‘my mother proudly called herself a “housewife”. A clever woman, she never had the chance to test her talent in the workplace and while i have no desire to turn the clock back, as her child i always knew that she was focused on us, her daughters. that we came first.’

Women such as Rantzen’s mother used to be the norm; now they are the exception. Decades of feminism have seen to that, combined with the changing economic landscapes.

And while the stereotype of the emancipated female, forging ahead in the workplace, challenging the men at their own game in many cases still stands, the reality is that many of these mothers work not because they want to but because they have to.

Rising living costs, soaring house prices and a changing employment market in which manufacturing jobs have been replaced by the service sector, mean the oldfashioned model of a father who works and a mother who stays at home is becoming less viable.

most families need two incomes just to keep a roof over their heads, and even then they find themselves struggling.

little wonder that more than 70 per cent of mothers have some form of paid employment, and that number is rising.

While concerns about the possible impact on younger generations have been rumbling on for decades — when i was young i remember endless debates about ‘latchkey kids’ — it remains one of those subjects that is very hard to debate objectively.

the reason is simple: working mothers such as myself are quick to defend our choices and highly sensitive about any suggestion that the way we conduct ourselves as parents might in any way prove detrimental to our children.

We are role models aren’t we? We make up for times away from our children in other ways, don’t we?

And at the end of the day, we are intelligent women: work is what keeps us sane.

But while mothers such as myself, who enjoy fulfilling careers and contribute to the income both of our own families and the national exchequer, would die in a ditch to defend the right to work, i would be lying if i didn’t admit there have been times when my family has suffered.

How often have i been too tired to help my children with homework? or too stressed to hear that small voice? or distracted at the very moment i could have made all the difference?

now they are 13 and 14, they tell me themselves. it is they who have to snap my laptop shut; they who have to make themselves supper if i’m working late, or run to the shops to get milk.

only the other night, my son — who had been waiting patiently for help with an english essay while i was working — lost his temper through frustration and exhaustion. By the time i had finished, he was too tired to do any more homework. there was no getting around it: i had prioritised my work over his.

i have no idea if either of my children have ever called Childline — although they have threatened (i think, hope) in jest. But my situation is emblematic of what esther Rantzen is talking about.

even though i am lucky enough to have flexible hours and can work from home, there are times when my work is all-consuming.

i tell myself, of course, that by not acting as their slave, i am teaching them self-sufficiency. But i simply don’t know how else my job might be affecting them.

Because while most people assume the early years are the hardest for working mothers, given the unique pressures of 21stcentury living that is not longer the case. Admittedly they don’t need so much practical support as they get older; but emotionally they are much more vulnerable.

the life of a modern teenager has never been more fraught in terms of mental health. last week, a study by the University of manchester revealed self-harm among teenage girls had increased 68 per cent in the past three years.

BOTH of my children experience a range of anxieties i would never even have dreamt of when i was their age, and there is no doubt social media and technology play a significant role in this.

the irony is that at a time when more mothers than ever are in work, it is becoming more vital that our children have someone at home who can offer a shoulder to cry on.

there is one simple truth: in the 21st century children need their mothers more than ever; but we are simply not there for them.

the time has come for women like myself to admit what we all secretly already knew. When it comes to the question of how we reconcile our duty as a mum with our intellectual ambitions, we don’t have a satisfactory answer.

Whenever someone raises it, the various factions rush straight to their battle stations — perpetuating the great feminist lie: that women can have it all. Among young women of my generation at least, this has always been the assumption. it was our job to take up the opportunities gifted to us by the previous generation of feminists. the focus was on pursuing a career first, marriage and motherhood second.

Cooking, cleaning and choosing curtains was beneath us; instead, we studied hard and worked long hours alongside the men.

the upside was that the world finally began to take us seriously.

the downside — which we never saw coming — was that something had to give. that something, it is increasingly becoming apparent, was the mental health and wellbeing of subsequent generations.

For, as the NSPCC and other child-focused organisations are forever reminding us, the past three decades have seen a gradual decline in happiness among

children and the quality of childhood. Generation X has given rise to Generation Neglect. One of the most heartbreaking things Rantzen pointed out is that many young people shield their parents from what’s going on in their lives because they either don’t want to add to their burden, or think they will be too busy to help.

‘They protect their parents from knowing they are being badly bullied, or abused,’ she said, adding, ‘perhaps that is why they turn to online friends or strangers, to have someone to talk to. But the online world brings new risks and pressures: cyberbullying, online groomers, the culture of “sexting” explicit images of themselves, and the easy availability of porn.’

We think of the internet as something that reaches into children’s lives; but the notion of children reaching out online to strangers because the emotional landscape at home is so barren had never occurred to me.

In 2015, a study by Harvard Business School found that in two-parent families with reasonable incomes, children of working mothers were at a distinct disadvantage. It said: ‘Employment was associated with negative child outcomes when families were not at risk financially (i.e., when families were middle or upper-middle class).’

Young children need to play and explore in an environment where they feel safe, special and loved. For infants, this means with care-givers to whom they feel they belong. Quite simply, their mothers.

No one wants to return to the days when married women weren’t allowed to work. But between that and feminism’s utopian dream must lie a place where mothers can be mothers and children can be children without either losing out. Perhaps that starts with recognising the value of working for something more than the money and the glory: a happy, stable home where the next generation can grow and flourish.

A novel concept indeed.