(Today’s Author is Jenny from MWM Torquay)
Is it me or was January about 482 days long? The colder and often wetter weather forced us to find more indoor activities this month and consequently into contact with high numbers of ‘other people’s children’ . Add in a couple of mornings at nursery for Eddie and full time school for Isabelle where temperatures are high, handwashing is questionable and snotty children bountiful and is it any wonder that this week the Smith family was visited by ‘The Dreaded Sickness……’
‘The Dreaded Sickness’ is an evil being. Mostly it likes to wait until the middle of the night when you’re tucked up dreaming about a time when a lie-in meant getting up at 10am. Only then, when you’re snug and warm does it decide to enter your consciousness in the most rude and disgusting manner. Your experience will be as follows:
1. There will be a cry. You will recognise this cry. It is beyond that of “ I need a wee / I’ve dropped my toy/ there’s a monster on top of my wardrobe.”
2. You will ‘leap’ out of bed – dangerous when you’re not really fully awake. This step often involves some sort of ricochet from a wall.
3. In a split second you will mentally question which is the nearest vessel that best resembles a sick bowl? Note to self, waste paper baskets are to be avoided, they have a most displeasing ‘sieving’ effect.
4. You will arrive on scene approximately 3 seconds too late. Every time. Sometimes you’re even there to see it happen but you will NEVER EVER get the sick bowl there in time. Accept this fact. To be honest you could have got up more slowly, put your slippers on, tied your hair back and had a wee on route.
5. The event. It doesn’t bear description. Needless to say it is ALWAYS on the whole bed, all the clothes, the floor and the bed toy. (Poor bunny)
6. At this point all your child will want to do is have a cuddle. Tricky this one isn’t it??? Whilst you love them more than anything there is that moment when your natural response is to physically recoil from your own offspring.
7. Brief pause when you hope your own mum and dad will arrive, rub your back and tell you everything will be ok.
8. Realisation that you are the responsible adult. Deep breath. Instantly regret that due to the smell and hatch your strategy.
9. A brief poll in class this week has lead me to believe that in a lot of families, my own included, Mummy takes charge of the child and Daddy steps in to the tackle the bedding devastation. There is rinsing, washing, changing of beds, night time laundry. (This is especially fun at my house where the washing machine is under the house so we have to go outside and through the garden.)
10. At this point I’d like to extend much love for those people who are on their own. I’m on my own 5 nights a week and it’s really the very worst. In the past I’ve considered bringing my baby into my bed and just shutting their bedroom door in the hope that those amazing elves from ‘The Elves and the Shoemaker’ appear to work a miracle.
11. Congratulate yourself that you’ve survived.
12. Pray there’s no repeat.
It’s a weird thing but although I hate dealing with sickness it’s one of those times I most feel like ‘Primal Mummy’. In all honesty it doesn’t matter that it’s the middle of the night or I find the whole thing revolting, it’s my baby that needs me and I’m there. I’ll always be there, whenever they need me and probably when they don’t. I’m pretty sure you lot feel the same.
Have a good week one and all. I’m praying ‘The Dreaded Sickness’ leaves you all alone.
Jenny x x