Hi. I’m a Stay At Home Mum. And I’ve got a cold.
I don’t just mean I’ve got a bit of a sniffle, or the odd sneeze. I mean full on MUMFLU. X-man has a hint of it too, just enough to have plenty of snot to plaster across his face with the back of his hand, but not enough to make him tired and pliable.
I am not good with colds – to be brutally honest, I’m a proper whinger whenever I’m ill. Unless it’s something serious, like when I had my gallbladder out, or when I was recovering from having that ovary removed – then I stoically soldier on to the point of doing myself more damage. I’m fun like that.
No, colds are sh*t. I can’t breathe, my eyes are watering, and with each sneeze I’m desperately wishing I’d been working a bit harder on my pelvic floor.
In the days before parenthood, a cold this bad would have had me sent home from work – I’d have at least groaned my way into the building to let people see just how zombie-like I was feeling before being chased away by an anti-bacterial spray wielding co-worker.
Where’s My Sick Day?
But as a SAHM? I’m trying to balance dying on the sofa with a 3 year old who shouts “I’m still hungry” every 30 minutes, and has turned the lounge floor into a Total Wipeout style assult course of lego, toy cars and a very heavy wooden crane.
All I want is my bed. And someone to listen to my snotty whining and make me cups of tea. And maybe some cake. Cake would be good…
I know it’s just a cold. It’ll linger for a few days, I’ll get through 3 whole boxes of Kleenex and an entire crate of tea, and then it’ll be forgotten. It’s not the end of the world.
But just for today, I’d really rather have to chance to pretend that it is…