I’m sick. I’m talking phlegm, too much snot and a headache that won’t quit. I’m cold to my innards – the kind of cold not indicative of Winter in the suburbs.
And I didn’t get a lick of sleep last night.
I took tossing and turning to a whole new level – Olympic level.
I’m so tired right now and I miss the days of resting up, getting enough fluids, because someone brought them to me and getting Vicks rubbed onto my chest. I miss hopping into my bed, to discover fresh sheets – because someone else changed them.
I am the someone else….
There is a changing of the guard that occurs when you become a mum. You cease to be looked after in a truly meaningful way. You are now the one doing the looking after.
Don’t get me wrong – I’m loved and that’s great, but when you stop living with your mum, the level of care drops significantly.
This morning I made two lunches, cleaned the house, swept the floors, hung out a load of washing and peeled one sweet potato, two regular potatoes, two carrots and an onion into the slow cooker, for a hearty veggie and lentil soup, that I’m definitely going to need later.
I edited about 10 articles for this month’s community papers and replied to a tonne of emails, because deadline is just around the corner. I entertained my one year old, because his new favourite word is, ‘PLAY!’
In short, I did everything that has to be done, because life doesn’t stop when I’m sick.
I can’t stop yawning and it sucks.
This will be a short post. I can’t be bothered articulating the unfairness of it all. I am not alone. It is the calling card of mums everywhere. Kids get to be sick. Men get to be sick. Mums get to ‘soldier on with Codral!’
Codral makes me woozy.
So, I am leaving the heater on all day. I know I shouldn’t, because I know it’s not actually as cold as I think it is, but I don’t care. I’m going to sit down on the couch until school pick up, because the boy is having a nap and I have nothing else to give. I might even close my eyes…. until 2:45. At 2:45, I will head out into this horribly grey day to start my next shift. I will pick up my daughter and engage her, or die trying.