As I mentioned in my last post, we’ve all been under the weather with another virus this week, and we’re still not 100%. Just as one family member has looked like they are on the up, another will come down with new symptoms. Stealing a phrase from my lovely friend Mel, it really is the bug that keeps on giving.
I went to bed at 8:45pm last night, shivering cold whilst burning up, nose so blocked I could hardly breathe. I was desperate for some sleep, but it wasn’t to be. At 10pm 3yo screamed out because she needed the toilet, and she was awake again at 1am. Literally screaming the house down for no apparent reason. Hubby tried going to her but she wanted me, so I brought her into our bedroom, calmed her down without her waking anyone else up (thankfully), then put her back to bed.
When the baby started crying for milk it felt as if only a few minutes had passed, but in actual fact it was around 5am. I fed him until he was happy enough to go back to sleep, then crawled into bed. By now it was a few minutes to six. At twenty past the girls woke up for the day, and although hubby tried his hardest to give me a lie-in, he was up against it with 3yo screaming ‘I want mummy’ at the top of her voice.
Credit where it’s due, Hubby really tried to make the day special. He had gone out on Saturday to buy me the gorgeous flowers in the photo above, and also picked up breakfast treats to make my favourite – smoked salmon, prawns and eggs which was delicious. The girls had made me the fab card, and were excited first thing. We had planned to go out, but with the whole family recovering from the bug, going out in the pouring rain was the last thing anyone was up for.
Now don’t get me wrong, I am fully aware that my life is blessed for having these wonderful people in it. In a nutshell though my day was long and hard – there was no putting my feet up and being spoilt rotten. My children are young and demanding, their needs are immediate and always come top of the list, regardless of what day it is. I’m genuinely ok with this, having made my peace with the situation on my first Mother’s Day when my eldest was 8mo and had been up half the night.
Does she have a point?
As I sit here feeding the baby while the girls eat tea, psyching myself up for the witching hour, I’m struck by how bombarded we are of the illusion of other people living perfect lives. My social media feeds were filled with glimpses of breakfast in bed, pressies and cards, pub lunches and steak dinners to be cooked by the husbands.
So my point is that I want to give out a little cheer to all the mums who had a crap nights sleep, or 5am start. The mums who don’t have a mum of their own in their life to share this day with. The mums who ended up in soft play hell with the masses, or had a disastrous over priced lunch out resulting in a massive meltdown. To all the mums who were guiltily counting down the minutes until bedtime from midday. Here’s to the mums who have held it all together and survived another day.
Mums, I salute you!