The Stay at Home Mother

So now that my son is on the mend from the flu he had last Saturday night, I managed to catch it on Sunday night. And my daughter caught it on Tuesday night.

Any lingering hope of not spreading this flu through my household are gone.

I am now weak, sleep deprived and trying to be a caregiver to the best of my ability to my children who are still on the mend. I curse the Lysol and Mr.Clean for not doing their job (no longer do I call them my friends). Instead - caffeine has become my new best friend....

It's the only thing that kept me awake, alert and ready to catch any disaster that may befall a bed, a couch or a toy that happens to be too close to the scene.

To avoid being too graphic - suffice it to say, that vomitting is not the only way the body has discovered to exit this nasty bug from the body...

Last night, I had to take the garbage out, and I was actually excited at the thought of fresh air. I stood outside for five minutes, breathing it in, listening to the sounds of the world whiz around me - and I actually felt exhilarated.

Who knew taking out the garbage could provide such a high?

When I was sick the other night - I sat downstairs alone. It was dark and quiet and I have to admit, I was scared. There is something about having someone there to watch over you like a mother, to comfort you, get you a glass of water if needed or to just say comforting things like "You will get past this - and you will be ok".

Instead, even though I am a 36 year old woman - I wanted my mom. I wanted someone to be up with me. I mean, what if I choke, what if I get dehydrated? Ok - yes, my husband is just up the stairs - but these are the kind of things you think about in the middle of the night when you are sick and feel sorry for yourself -(well, just a bit).

When my daughter became sick the very next night - I was still sleep deprived from my own bought with the illness. However, that became the least of my worries as I sat vigile over her for the next twelve hours with a bowl every 10 minutes.

It's funny how as I was lying there - any kind of concept of time beyond minutes or seconds no longer mattered. What only mattered was the hand on the clock stretching beyond the last time she was sick. I would hope and pray for one more extra minute beyond the last time. One more minute could mean a turning point - it could mean that this time would be her chance to get stronger and fight it.

I would hold my breath as the minutes would reach the known 10 minute mark and if we made it past that - I would silently cheer. A small victory for her.

As a mother - nothing else matters in my life when my children are sick.

All that matters is seeing them get healthy again.

So although I am sleep deprived, sorely in need of a shower and weak - I am happy - because my family is on the mend now - and that means the world.