Latest news with #workingfromhome
The Guardian
15 hours ago
- General
- The Guardian
Tim Dowling: the tennis has reached boiling point – and so have we
When the sun is out and the weather is hot, my office shed becomes sauna-like long before midday. By 11am, I retreat to the kitchen to work. By noon, the kitchen is also too hot to work in, and I move to the living room, where I find the oldest one and the middle one sitting on the sofa in the dark, their faces illuminated by their laptop screens. 'This is the place to be,' I say. 'The only place to be,' says the oldest. 'My room is like an oven.' I have learned over a period of years that if I keep all the curtains shut, night and day, the living room will stay 10 degrees cooler than the rest of the house in sultry weather. On certain days it becomes the only habitable room. Today is one of those days, by no means the first of the year. 'I picked the wrong day to work from home,' says the middle one, typing furiously, eyebrows knit in concentration. 'I could be in an air-conditioned office.' 'Me too,' says the oldest one, sipping from a steaming mug. 'What are you drinking?' I say. 'Tea,' he says. 'Hot tea?' I say. 'Hot drinks keep you cool in warm weather,' he says. 'No they don't,' I say. 'I feel cooler,' he says. 'Well, I don't,' I say. 'I can feel the heat coming off your cup from here.' 'I have a meeting,' says the middle one, standing up. We spend the next four hours like this, with one of us occasionally leaving the room to conduct some private work business, only to return 20 minutes later flushed and sweaty. 'This is kind of depressing,' says the oldest one. 'Can we open the curtains?' 'No,' I say. 'Look.' I point to a spot on the wall where, thanks to a small gap at the top of the curtains, a thin stripe of sunlight is shining on the opposite wall – a stripe of such intensity that it looks as if it could set the paintwork on fire. 'Can we have the tennis on?' he says. 'Yes,' I say. At some point the dog wanders in, crossing in front of the tennis with a rubber ball in its mouth, eyeing the three of us expectantly. 'Nobody wants to play with you,' I say. 'It's too hot.' The dog releases the ball, which bounces once and lands in a boot. The dog tries to retrieve the ball and gets its head stuck. 'What are you doing?' says the middle one. The dog looks his way, with a boot on its head. After the boot is removed, the dog squeezes itself into the gap between the sofa and the wall behind, and collapses there, panting. My phone pings once: a text from my wife. 'Mum will be home in half an hour,' I announce. 'And believe me, she will have things to say about the present arrangement.' The match we're watching goes into a fourth set, which eventually progresses to a tie-break. Inevitably this is the moment my wife picks to walk in. 'What's happening in here?' she says. From behind the sofa, the dog's tail thumps twice. 'We're working,' says the middle one. 'You're watching Wimbledon,' she says. 'Just like in a real office,' I say. 'They don't have the tennis on in real offices,' she says. 'When were you last in a real office?' I say. 'When were you?' she says. 'That's my point,' I say. 'It could be exactly like this, for all we know.' There is a terrible scrabbling sound: the dog is trying to find its way out from behind the sofa. 'I still don't understand why it has to be quite so dark in here,' says the oldest. 'There's ice-cream melting in the back of the car,' my wife says. 'This match is on a knife edge,' I say. Just before dusk, I allow the curtains to be opened for one hour, at which point it becomes clear that the room is in a terrible state: there are cups everywhere, cables running underfoot and shoes strewn across the floor alongside little piles of now unidentifiable things the dog has chewed up in the dark. 'I can't live like this,' my wife says. 'Me neither,' says the oldest one. 'I'm definitely going into work tomorrow.' At 2am I cannot summon sleep in the tropical reaches of our bedroom. I think about taking my pillow down to the welcoming coolness of the living room, but I can hear the oldest one still watching telly in there, unable to sleep himself. I pick up my phone and look at tomorrow's weather, which promises more of the same. Then I think: but there's cricket tomorrow as well, all day.
The Guardian
2 days ago
- General
- The Guardian
Tim Dowling: the tennis has reached boiling point – and so have we
When the sun is out and the weather is hot, my office shed becomes sauna-like long before midday. By 11am, I retreat to the kitchen to work. By noon, the kitchen is also too hot to work in, and I move to the living room, where I find the oldest one and the middle one sitting on the sofa in the dark, their faces illuminated by their laptop screens. 'This is the place to be,' I say. 'The only place to be,' says the oldest. 'My room is like an oven.' I have learned over a period of years that if I keep all the curtains shut, night and day, the living room will stay 10 degrees cooler than the rest of the house in sultry weather. On certain days it becomes the only habitable room. Today is one of those days, by no means the first of the year. 'I picked the wrong day to work from home,' says the middle one, typing furiously, eyebrows knit in concentration. 'I could be in an air-conditioned office.' 'Me too,' says the oldest one, sipping from a steaming mug. 'What are you drinking?' I say. 'Tea,' he says. 'Hot tea?' I say. 'Hot drinks keep you cool in warm weather,' he says. 'No they don't,' I say. 'I feel cooler,' he says. 'Well, I don't,' I say. 'I can feel the heat coming off your cup from here.' 'I have a meeting,' says the middle one, standing up. We spend the next four hours like this, with one of us occasionally leaving the room to conduct some private work business, only to return 20 minutes later flushed and sweaty. 'This is kind of depressing,' says the oldest one. 'Can we open the curtains?' 'No,' I say. 'Look.' I point to a spot on the wall where, thanks to a small gap at the top of the curtains, a thin stripe of sunlight is shining on the opposite wall – a stripe of such intensity that it looks as if it could set the paintwork on fire. 'Can we have the tennis on?' he says. 'Yes,' I say. At some point the dog wanders in, crossing in front of the tennis with a rubber ball in its mouth, eyeing the three of us expectantly. 'Nobody wants to play with you,' I say. 'It's too hot.' The dog releases the ball, which bounces once and lands in a boot. The dog tries to retrieve the ball and gets its head stuck. 'What are you doing?' says the middle one. The dog looks his way, with a boot on its head. After the boot is removed, the dog squeezes itself into the gap between the sofa and the wall behind, and collapses there, panting. My phone pings once: a text from my wife. 'Mum will be home in half an hour,' I announce. 'And believe me, she will have things to say about the present arrangement.' The match we're watching goes into a fourth set, which eventually progresses to a tie-break. Inevitably this is the moment my wife picks to walk in. 'What's happening in here?' she says. From behind the sofa, the dog's tail thumps twice. 'We're working,' says the middle one. 'You're watching Wimbledon,' she says. 'Just like in a real office,' I say. 'They don't have the tennis on in real offices,' she says. 'When were you last in a real office?' I say. 'When were you?' she says. 'That's my point,' I say. 'It could be exactly like this, for all we know.' There is a terrible scrabbling sound: the dog is trying to find its way out from behind the sofa. 'I still don't understand why it has to be quite so dark in here,' says the oldest. 'There's ice-cream melting in the back of the car,' my wife says. 'This match is on a knife edge,' I say. Just before dusk, I allow the curtains to be opened for one hour, at which point it becomes clear that the room is in a terrible state: there are cups everywhere, cables running underfoot and shoes strewn across the floor alongside little piles of now unidentifiable things the dog has chewed up in the dark. 'I can't live like this,' my wife says. 'Me neither,' says the oldest one. 'I'm definitely going into work tomorrow.' At 2am I cannot summon sleep in the tropical reaches of our bedroom. I think about taking my pillow down to the welcoming coolness of the living room, but I can hear the oldest one still watching telly in there, unable to sleep himself. I pick up my phone and look at tomorrow's weather, which promises more of the same. Then I think: but there's cricket tomorrow as well, all day.
SBS Australia
4 days ago
- Business
- SBS Australia
Tax Time 2025: Expert tips to help you prepare and lodge your tax return smoothly
Here are some useful links for Tax related information: (Disclaimer: This information is intended as a general guide. For advice tailored to your situation, please consult a qualified professional.] LISTEN TO SBS Hindi 01/07/2025 05:06 Hindi LISTEN TO SBS Hindi 27/06/2025 06:00 Hindi
Yahoo
6 days ago
- Business
- Yahoo
Remote Working Tips For New Parents: Balancing Baby Bottles and Business Calls
Working from home with a newborn often sounds ideal—no more commutes, more time for bonding, and the comfort of being close to your baby. But as many new parents quickly learn, it's not the seamless setup they imagined. Instead, they find themselves juggling team meetings and nap schedules, navigating baby cries during client calls, and trying to meet deadlines with one hand while soothing a fussy infant with the other. Remote working as a new parent is full of unique challenges. But it's also an opportunity to redefine how we live, work, and care for our families. I've spent the better part of 20 years working from home and for the past 13 years I've been raising children. With four kids in my household there are many simple but effective tips and tricks I've learned or developed to help keep our household running smoothing, at least most of the time. I hope this guide offers some actionable and practical insights for parents who are raising a newborn while both working from home. From managing expectations to creating a fair division of labor and sharing the mental load, it's designed to help you move from daily chaos to something more sustainable—and maybe even joyful. Parenting a newborn already transforms your life in profound and unexpected ways. Add remote work into the mix, and suddenly, you're managing two demanding full-time roles at once. One of the most common struggles is maintaining boundaries. When your workspace is also your nursery, it becomes incredibly difficult to mentally shift between being a parent and being a professional. You might find yourself replying to emails while feeding your baby or dialing into meetings during a nap—neither of which feels like you're doing either job well. Another major challenge is the complete unpredictability of a newborn's schedule. Babies don't follow a calendar, and they certainly don't care if you have a critical meeting. Sleep regressions, growth spurts, and teething can all throw off your carefully planned workday. On top of that, many couples find themselves grappling with an uneven division of labor. Without clear communication, one partner often ends up doing more of the baby care—leading to resentment and frustration, especially when both are trying to maintain demanding careers. Compounding these issues is the emotional toll of constant multitasking. The pressure to be 'always on' for both work and baby care can quickly lead to burnout. Parents may feel like they're falling short in every area—underperforming at work, missing milestones at home, and losing touch with their own identity. This emotional fatigue can silently build until it spills over into arguments, disconnection, or even symptoms of depression and anxiety. Finally, there's the challenge of isolation. Without coworkers to casually chat with or family members dropping by to help, the days can feel long and lonely. Even when you're physically never alone—because of a baby attached to you—the lack of adult interaction can be mentally exhausting. This isolation, paired with the intensity of caring for a newborn and juggling professional expectations, can make even simple tasks feel overwhelming. But take a deep breath—because there are ways through this. While every family's situation is different, many parents have found relief by embracing a few shared strategies: setting clearer boundaries between work and parenting time, scheduling regular check-ins with their partner, building a flexible (not rigid) daily routine, and carving out even small moments for self-care. These aren't miracle fixes, but they can dramatically reduce stress and help restore a sense of balance. You won't always get it right—and that's okay. What matters most is staying connected, communicating openly, and remembering that you're on the same team. Before diving into schedules or apps, the most important thing any parenting team can do is commit to clear and regular communication. You and your partner need to be on the same page about your needs, expectations, and capacities—not just once, but continuously. One helpful strategy is to schedule a weekly conversation focused solely on household alignment. During this time, discuss what each of you has coming up at work, any changes in the baby's needs or routines, and how you're each doing emotionally. 'Hey, I was thinking it might be helpful for us to carve out a little time each week just to touch base—like a check-in on how things are going with the baby, work stuff, and how we're both feeling. Would you be open to trying that together? I think it could help us stay on the same page and support each other better.' These check-ins should be seen as opportunities to proactively prevent misunderstandings or resentment. It's important to use constructive language that centers how you're feeling, rather than placing blame. For instance, saying 'I'm feeling overwhelmed with how much I'm juggling during the day' opens the door to solutions more easily than 'You're never helping enough.' Communication like this lays the groundwork for healthy adjustments and strengthens your ability to function as a team. One of the most effective tools for remote-working parents is a written household agreement. This doesn't have to be formal or complex, but it should clearly lay out responsibilities, working hours, and shared expectations. Writing it down helps prevent miscommunication and gives you something to revisit when life inevitably throws curveballs. For example, your agreement might ensure that each partner gets dedicated blocks of uninterrupted work time each day. You can also define who handles the baby's morning and evening routines, agree on which day of the week one partner gets more work time while the other takes on additional parenting duties, and clarify how you'll handle unexpected situations like illness or missed naps. The goal isn't rigid structure—it's clarity, fairness, and adaptability. Make sure to also include space for mental health and individual time. Each parent should have at least a couple hours each week to recharge without feeling guilty. Whether it's going for a walk, exercising, attending therapy, or simply doing nothing, this time is vital for avoiding burnout and staying grounded. Protected Work Blocks:Each partner gets at least 3 hours of uninterrupted work time per day, scheduled in advance on a shared calendar. Noise-canceling headphones and a closed-door signal will be respected. Daily Baby Care Shifts:We divide baby care into morning (7 AM–1 PM) and afternoon (1 PM–7 PM) shifts, rotating daily. Outside of these shifts, we split evening routines and overnight wakeups based on who is better rested. Weekly Check-Ins:We commit to a 30-minute check-in every Sunday evening to discuss the week ahead, any adjustments needed, and how we're each feeling emotionally and physically. Emergency Protocol:If the baby is sick, naps are skipped, or a work emergency arises, we agree to reprioritize based on who has the more critical task, and revisit responsibilities as needed without blame. Self-Care & Alone Time:Each partner is guaranteed 2 hours of solo time per week, non-negotiable and scheduled like a meeting. This is for mental health, hobbies, or simple rest—no baby duties allowed. We've written previously about the importance of alone time for mental health, especially during the holidays. Technology can be a powerful ally in managing the moving parts of parenting and remote work. A shared digital calendar—such as Google Calendar—can help you coordinate everything from meetings to feeding schedules. Color-coding events makes it easier to visualize the day at a glance and avoid overlap. Some couples use messaging platforms like Slack or even dedicated texting threads to send real-time updates during the day, like 'baby just went down for a nap' or 'I've got a call—can you take over?' Project management tools like Trello or Notion can also help with baby-related logistics, such as tracking diaper inventory, feeding routines, or doctor appointments. Even something as simple as a smart baby monitor app can give you peace of mind when one parent is on duty and the other is in a meeting. The key with tools isn't to over-complicate things—it's to reduce friction and mental load. Use what works for you, and don't be afraid to adjust as your baby grows and your work demands shift. – For shared scheduling of work blocks, baby care shifts, and personal time. Use color coding for clarity. or WhatsApp – Create a private channel or thread for quick updates like 'baby's napping' or 'jumping on a call.' Notion – Use for tracking feeding times, nap logs, to-do lists, and household tasks in one organized workspace. Trello – A visual project board to assign tasks (e.g., grocery shopping, ordering diapers) and see progress at a glance. Baby Connect – A baby tracking app to log feedings, diapers, naps, and mood—especially helpful if you're taking turns. or – For quick note-taking and syncing ideas, reminders, or shopping lists. Smart Baby Monitor (e.g., , ) – Lets one parent monitor the baby from another room during calls or deep work sessions. or App – For soothing baby music, white noise, or quick meditations during break time. Also, check out our best chore apps for kids post. While our article was focused on children, there are actually a few great choices on that list that can help you and your partner divvy up chores in simple and even fun ways. In the whirlwind of parenting and productivity, it's easy to forget about yourself. But neglecting your own well-being only sets the stage for burnout. Remote-working parents often fall into the trap of thinking they must be productive during every quiet moment. The truth is, you need rest—and not just sleep. You need space to think, breathe, and recharge. The good news is, even small moments of restoration can make a big difference. A ten-minute walk outside, listening to a podcast while feeding the baby, doing a five-minute stretch between meetings—these things count. What matters most is intentionally creating space, however brief, that is just for you. When you show up for yourself, you're better able to show up for your baby, your partner, and your work. Even the best systems will fail sometimes. Your baby will get sick. A deadline will get missed. The house will look like a disaster zone. Tempers might flare, and feelings might get hurt. That's normal. What matters in these moments isn't perfection, but recovery. Return to your communication habits. Revisit your household agreement. Talk about what went wrong and how to adjust. Offer each other grace and move forward. Resilience—not rigidity—is the true secret to navigating this phase of life successfully. If you're parenting a newborn while working remotely—especially in a household where both parents are working—know that what you're doing is hard. It's not just you. You are learning how to adapt in real time to a reality no one trains us for. You're not failing—you're navigating something extraordinary. You're not alone—thousands of other parents are working through the same complexities. And you're doing better than you probably give yourself credit for. Don't aim for perfect. Aim for present, flexible, and connected. That's what your baby needs most. To make this season of life more manageable, prioritize open, ongoing communication and create a written household agreement to share responsibilities fairly. Use simple tools to stay organized, and make sure each partner gets protected time for both work and self-care. Expect that things will go wrong sometimes, and when they do, rely on teamwork and flexibility to reset. Remote parenting isn't easy, but with the right mindset and systems in place, it can also be one of the most rewarding times of your life. You've got this.
Daily Mail
24-06-2025
- Politics
- Daily Mail
EUAN McCOLM: Entitled civil servants whining about going back to the office makes the blood boil. Here's a thought - do as you're told...or find another job
The sense of entitlement is, at once, both infuriating and entirely unsurprising. Pampered Scottish Government officials have grown accustomed, since the Coronavirus pandemic forced the temporary closure of offices, to working from home. This emergency protocol was established for excellent reasons: in the months before a vaccine was created, Covid-19 presented a devastating threat to life. Of course it made sense for workers across the public and private sectors to carry out their duties far from the risk of infection. But, thanks to the development of effective vaccines against the deadly virus, there is no longer any need for employees to stay away from their offices. Indeed, it is some years since such a measure was necessary, or even appropriate. Yet, long after the threat from the virus was diminished, many Scottish Government civil servants continue to work from home. And many of them appear to have decided that's the way things should stay. For most Scots workers, going back to the office was not a matter of choice. It was, simply, a return to normality. But Scottish Government bureaucrats don't reckon those rules apply to them. Following an order that they should return to their offices for just two days a week, toys were ejected from prams across the country. How dare anyone expect these very important people to actually turn up at work? An edict stating that 9,300 Scottish Government staff who have been allowed 'hybrid' working arrangements since Covid should start spending two days a week in offices by autumn fuelled a backlash among mandarins, with some demanding special treatment simply for getting back behind their desks. Using the government's internal communications network, Saltire, staff bitterly complained about the hardship they would face if they had to actually turn up at the office to do the jobs for which they are so handsomely paid. There were been demands for a swimming pool at the government's Victoria Quay building to reopen, complaints that making staff come to work is unfair on their pets, and even questions over whether workers' human rights are being breached by the order. And, of course, there were calls for a pay rise, as if simply carrying out one's contractual obligations represented a great personal sacrifice. Senior managers within the Scottish Government want to cut back on the amount of time people work from home for the very good reason that they wish to boost productivity. It turns out that leaving entitled bureaucrats to their own devices is not good for efficiency. I find it impossible to disagree with Conservative MSP Stephen Kerr's view that those civil servants now complaining about the order to go to the office for a mere two days a week are 'divorced from reality'. Should you need persuading this is so, consider this comment from one civil servant: 'Many have made big decisions based on balance — whether that be starting a family, getting a pet, getting rid of cars; down to things like starting a new fitness class, being able to take that longer lunchtime walk for their mental health or meet a friend after work because there is no commute. The prospect of that now being taken away is undoubtedly causing stress and anxiety.' The wee lambs. For workers across the private sector, refusal to come to work would be considered a matter of gross misconduct and instant dismissal would follow. These same rules should apply to civil servants. While the backlash from bureaucrats is enough to make the blood boil, who can say they find it surprising? The culture of any organisation is set at the top and we have grown grimly accustomed to those who govern us acting as if they are entitled to special treatment. We have watched as First Minister after First Minister has stood behind colleagues who - in the private sector - would have been sacked for incompetence. Why would a civil servant feel the need to perform their duties to any kind of acceptable standard when, for example, health secretary Neil Gray - of taking-a-limo-to-the-pub fame - remains in post? Why would a mandarin feel compelled to turn up to work when so many members of the Government act as if the standards by which the rest of us live and work are for the little people? There would be something comical about highly-paid civil servants complaining about having to sit at their desks if Scotland's public service were not in such a parlous state. The SNP have made swingeing cuts to departmental budgets, stripping back services from social work to health to bin collections. Meanwhile, ministers have retained a monomaniacal focus on the matter of Scottish independence. Not only have those in charge put their constitutional obsession before, for example, the need for a working NHS, they have diverted staff from vitally important work. All of the hours spent planning for a second independence referendum that the Scottish Government has no right to run could - should - have been spent on the issues that truly matter to voters. Amid the fear and anxiety created by the pandemic, there were some positives, not least the creation of a sense of community. As old social hierarchies crumbled, the feeling that we were all in it together was very real, indeed. The urge to play one's part was strong and reassuringly widespread. For most of us, life has got back to normal but for others, the need for friends and family to rally round endures. There are those, of course, who live with the physical effects of Coronavirus long after infection. Others continue to pay a heavy financial cost. The UK Government's furlough scheme ensured wages were paid during the worst months of the pandemic but countless jobs lost - particularly in the retail and hospitality sectors - look unlikely ever to be replaced. The 'suffering' of a highly-paid mandarin, asked to come to work two days a week - without even having access to a swimming pool - doesn't compare to that of someone whose career was destroyed by the pandemic, does it? There is a case for the intervention of First Minister John Swinney, here. I suggest he contacts those civil servants complaining about the return-to-the-office demand and makes them a generous offer: They can do as they are told or they can leave and find work more suited to their fragile temperaments. There are plenty of hardworking Scots ready to step up.
