I am sitting at the computer (read: on the couch with the laptop) on Sunday afternoon. We had planned to visit my cousin and his family today while they are on vacation in a pretty seaside town not far from us.
I was actually really looking forward to it. So you can understand how I spent most of yesterday with phrases like 'well, it was quite a late night on Thursday' and 'he did eat a Marmite sandwich only an hour or so ago' or 'well, this heat is really unusual for this time of year - its just making us all lethargic' spilling forth like so many grains of rice. Trying to maintain the ever obvious illusion that Jamie was in fact quite well, and the loss of appetite and floppy tiredness was not at all due to any type of sickness.
All pretense was shattered at about 6pm with the throwing up, followed by the fever, followed by the sleepless night. sigh. (read: yawn).
So here we all sit, Jamie curled up on the couch next to me, and Noah and Marti in bed. Really, it was a late night......
I have a confession to make. Whilst I am full of loving compassion for my sick son, and will comfort and change and bath and sing-to at any time of day or night I am finding myself just a little (here goes) annoyed by it all.
'You need a drink of water, 4 seconds after I asked you if you did, you saying no, and my coming up stairs and sitting down?'
'You absolutely, desperately need a new Bob the Builder show even though we actually only have the same DVD's we had 10 minutes ago?, and no, I can't somehow magic new ones up right now..'
'You can't possibly sit up on your own, or even stand alone for just one second, even though I am holding the baby and a pile of laundry??'
So there you go. Bad Mummy moment. (although I don't actually believe this makes me a bad mummy..unless you say it does....does it??)
On top of this, wonderful pre-school, that Jamie loves, and I love, and that saves my sanity for 2.5 hours 4 times a week, and that has been closed for 2 weeks of Easter break goes back tomorrow. This has been an event much anticipated by all in our household, and now seemingly one to be missed due to this sickness. J will be so sad when I say he can't go, will want to go anyway and will have a tantrum. And it will only be a sense of thinly held adult self control that will stop me joining him.
Whine, whine, whine. Thanks for the catharsis.
Its Ok sweetheart. Mummy's here.