It's officially September, and I’m guessing I’m not the only teacher in the UK beginning to feel the creeping dread about the start of the new school year. I'm starting a new primary role and gearing up to face all of the demands of teaching my first year in a new post.

I’m excited to get to know my new class, and looking forward to the engaging and fun way my new school structures the curriculum. Sometimes I feel so lucky to have this opportunity to get creative and work at making a difference to children’s love and understanding of their subjects.

More often though, I feel totally daunted by the prospect of fitting in all the planning, marking, creating differentiated resources, putting up displays, keeping in touch with parents, recording progress and everything else that will fall outside my hours in the classroom.

I have started new teaching roles twice before, so this feeling is not completely alien to me. The difference now is that I have two young children. All of a sudden the infamous work-life balance issue has taken on a whole new meaning for me.

Ten years ago, on my PGCE, I passionately advocated the perfect work-life balance could be struck with a few simple adjustments to one’s routine. By working on the bus to and from school, and by getting essays written in group study sessions while starting drinking before a night out (making sure to stop writing and go out once you began to feel tipsy), I felt that teaching was a great fit for my life.

Proud of my ability to be the last one out and first one up, my seemingly endless energy seemed to suit teaching down to the ground. The secret I now need to admit to myself is that I did put in hours and hours of extra work too, but there was room for it in my life so it didn’t really hurt. The holidays were a wonderful opportunity to travel and explore the world, and I really did feel like I had it all.

My CV still boasts of this energetic and enthusiastic teacher with a love of travelling. I hope I can find her in September. My hazy head after sleepless nights with my baby can make me forget this version of myself. My tested temper after toddler tantrums make me scared I won’t ever find this happy-go-lucky self again. Most of all, I just feel terrified by the prospect of bringing all the responsibilities of a new full time teaching role into my life. If I was living a game of Tetris, it is now verging on that level where the bricks fall way faster than you can arrange them. Losing won’t cut it though. With a family to support I have never needed to get those blocks into lines as much as I do now.

I guess it’s time to dig deep, and I sincerely hope that there are some extra energy reserves that I have been saving for just this. I wish all teachers, and all working mums and dads, good luck with their own digging. It helps to know I’m not the only one, and therefore it must be somehow possible.​

​​​​​​The writer is a primary school teacher in England