A fun game to play for British parents seeking to drive themselves up the wall is to read about the childcare systems in other countries. Finland? A public early years education service for preschool children underpinned by a “right to daycare” for every citizen, which is free for lower-income families; and a home care subsidy for those that want to look after their children at home. France? State-funded creches available to children from the age of two and a half months, with a strong historical notion that the government should facilitate a mother’s ability to work outside the home. Germany? Children have a legal right to childcare and prices are as low as €70 to €150 (£61 to £130) per child a month. Denmark? Every child aged between 0 and six guaranteed a place in the public childcare system, with 75% of the cost consisting of government subsidies. It is truly sickening, and I’m genuinely surprised that parents here aren’t shutting down the country with a national strike.
“Sign him up in utero”, a friend advised me, when I told her I was pregnant, but after looking at the fees for the charming bilingual French nursery nearby, I concluded – after regaining consciousness – that I’d have to go for a council-run children’s centre. They, quite reasonably, only sign up babies who have been born, so I finally staggered in when he was five weeks old, around his actual due date. They said they might have a place in May 2023, a month after I’m supposed to go back to work (a different kind of work! This is my freelance kind of work, which I’m doing while the baby teethes loudly in the living room with my mother), but no guarantees. Like many mothers, I digested this news while having a silent panic attack, before intoning, in a shell-shocked sort of way: “Well, I suppose I’ll have to give up my entire career in order to look after this baby.” And I’m one of the lucky ones: I only need two days a week.
