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The cabin fever has arrived, we are all fed up with the situation we find ourselves in.
Youngest is full of energy again, and wants us parent types to play with him all day, and we are too busy trying to keep an eye on Eldest while catching up on sleep now and then; or trying to stop the house being engulfed by the humungous piles of washing that have suddenly sprung up. He does get a good bit of attention from us, but he seems to have decided that he can’t play by himself any more!!
Neither kid has actually vomited since late Friday (yes, Eldest’s birthday was truly a laugh a minute) which is a huge blessing, but the boys are still lying around (well, Youngest was positively LEAPING today) in clothes and on towels/bedding that will still have lingering nasties on them, so I am following around in their wake washing stuff, wiping down the leather couch, spraying door handles to within an inch of their life…and so on.
I am far beyond fed up of seeing my usually (annoyingly) energetic Eldest lying on the couch with a sore tummy. We are on day 5 now, and he has lost a worrying amount of weight, and is nowhere near making it back up.
He opened his presents today, lying down, mostly because his brother bullied him into being curious as to what was in them. We always take pictures to send to people to say thank you, but the ones hubby took today are painful to look at. No smiles, no energy, no oomph at all from the seven year old – all kinds of chat and nonsense and business from the four year old! My mummy heart is really being given a beating, and I am not afraid to say I am unravelling here.
We have a doctor’s appointment on Wednesday for Eldest, but we have been consulting doctors and pharmacists over the phone all the way through this; and other than feeding him as much as possible when his tummy isn’t sore (!), we are just going to have to wait it out. The doctor said this morning that it can take up to two weeks to recover from such a virus. We are not having any kind of fun this Easter, then…
Beer Exact Abridge Home Confidence Dependence Bend Strip Wrestle
“It used to be all about beer
(Or vodka and Irn Bru, for me)
I didn’t really think past that,
And maybe the next essay due.
I worried a little about when
The alcohol might exact some revenge;
And I stayed away from those ill,
Or who’d had too much (and might be).
Anyway, to abridge this tale; I can’t DO it
This home life thing. I’m not good at it;
In fact, I kind of suck. It’s not a
Confidence thing, or intelligence
It’s ‘just’ abject flipping terror, man.
Their dependence. The permanence.
The freaking long hours.
The fact the years run so fast and I
Can’t pause them. The love.
The painful, painful, love I hold!
All that could go wrong!
That when it goes right it can still collapse.
That I’ll forget something. I’ll leave them.
Something I do will maim them.
That they’ll fluffing DIE and
I
WON’T.
I can’t freaking DO THIS ANY MORE!!!”
…I think; as I bend to strip another bed,
Wrestle the subsequent load into the machine;
Stroke a little head,
Give a cuddle…
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April 11th, 2017 at 6:32 am
Full of feeling but does not do justice to what a brilliant mum you are..
April 11th, 2017 at 11:01 pm
Thanks Jane.
Sometimes the sheer energy it all takes is utterly overwhelming, however. There are too many feelings to process (mine and others’), and no margin for any fault or weakness on my part or TIME to just be in a state of doing nothing. Everything I do is audited because of the role I have. There is no true relaxation. Ever. I struggle with that every day, and always will. X