My kids are sick. All three of them, with varying levels of cough/cold/runny nose/fever/general grouchiness.
I would love to sit here and say that I am the kind of mum who nurtures her kids when they are sick, drops everything to bow to their every whim. I mean, don’t get me wrong – I care about my kids. I feel sad when they are sick. There is nothing worse than the vulnerability that comes when kids are unwell. They just seem so small when they aren’t feeling well. My heart breaks for them, and I do everything I can to make them feel better.
But then the next phase kicks in. The second, third day of a cold. When they are grouchy for lack of sleep, still feeling generally yukky, and just plain miserable. This phase, I do not like. This phase, I am not a very good mother at.
Today was a perfect example of this. Princess has had a cough for the past week. It’s generally ok, except it keeps her up at night. BoyChild is the worst hit by this nasty cold – fever, and no voice. I won’t lie, I giggled a little when he was talking to me this morning. So squeaky! And BabyGirl is coughing and her nose is runny like a tap. When she sneezes, take cover.
I also don’t feel 100%, my voice sounds like a boy going through puberty, and Mr T has ManFlu to boot. Awesome day in the T household.
One sick kid is oversensitive and grumpy. Three sick kids are oversensitive, grumpy and, well, just plain mean to each other. There was so much fighting and crying and bickering today, I hid from my kids. Literally. I lay on the floor on the other side of my bed and waited until they left the room before climbing back into the bed. I just … I didn’t feel like parenting at the exact moment. Don’t worry – Mr T was home, so they weren’t entirely unsupervised. Because I wouldn’t do that. No, siree, bob. I’m lying, btw.
The biggest issue today was the Mummy Hugs (or, Mummy Duddles, as BabyGirl calls them). Princess was a bit sensitive and wanted a cuddle. BoyChild was sad because something happened (not entirely sure what) and wanted a cuddle. BabyGirl saw the others wanting cuddles, and wanted a Duddle.
I have two arms, two legs. One torso. I can’t physically cuddle three kids. Especially not without them touching each other. And so begins the squabbles. The scratching, the crying, the screaming. And I end up in the crossfire. There IS NOT ENOUGH MUMMY TO GO AROUND. They didn’t want Daddy, they didn’t want the iPad, the computer, the TV. They wanted MUMMY.
And so I did what any reasonable mother would do in this situation. I peeled them off me like a wetsuit, placed them delicately on the floor, ignored their howls of protest, and hid once more. They found me, of course. They always do. Sigh. I need a bigger house. And more limbs.
Thankfully tomorrow is Monday. Normal people dread Mondays. I look forward to them, because Mondays mean school. Preschool. Freedom.
I love my kids, I really do. But some days, even this mum has to hide occasionally. My only regret was not having chocolate stored down the side of the bed. Must work on that.