Right now I’m battling one hell of a sore throat and snuffly nose.
Sounds like nothing a ‘normal’ person couldn’t handle, right? But I’m here to tell you I’m no normal person.
You see, I am a person, for whom three little, one big and one hairy creature, relies on. The hairy one being the dog, if you might’ve needed clarification!
Their needs don’t start when they wake up in the morning. Nooooooo, that would be way too simple and easy. They start from about midnight. That’s usually when my 3 year old startles me awake by standing as close to my face as he can without breathing or talking.
He wants a drink. Which happens to be right next to his bed, but apparently he needed me to point that out to him.
Then the toddler wakes because his nose needs wiping.
Then that wakes up the 5 year old who is now upset because he can’t get back to sleep.
This happens most nights, and most nights I handle it like a pro, if I don’t say so myself. But when you’re doing this 24/7 parenting gig on only one cylinder, well let’s just say its a pretty damn hard slog.
In fact a better way of describing parenting while sick is this. Imagine you’re running a marathon, hard right?! Yep, well then tie your hands behind your back, strap 2 kilo bags of potatoes around your ankles and have someone throw buckets of ice water at your face. That. That’s what it is like.
Because it’s relentless, your body has no time to recover and by the time it finally does, one of your little sweethearts has brought another special little virus home from kinder/the park/licking the trolly at coles, and you all get sick….AGAIN!!!
I know I sound like I’m whinging, and that’s because I am. I have to do it here, because do you think my kids give a damn that I still have to get them another vegemite sandwich, wipe another bottom, break up another fight about lego, all while swallowing razor blades?
The answer is NO! They couldn’t care less.
And I know I’m not alone. I see you mumma, tissue in hand, still pushing your bub on the swing at the park. I see you loading the groceries into the car while coughing up a lung. I see you taking care of everyone else, while you battle on.
And I salute you. You’re the real warrior woman.
So from one sick and tired mother to another, I hope you get five minutes to sit down, sip on a lemsip and wipe your own nose before anyone else’s, today.
At least that’s what I’m hoping lays ahead for me!