My poor little man has been in the wars this week. And as usual with us, there's a story to be told.
He hadn't been right all half-term. Bit snotty, bit flu-ey. A bit off-colour as your mum would say. Couldn't finish his football training on Saturday - an early substitution had to be made. Went off to his dad's, with this mummy fretting for the weekend. Sometimes they just want their mum's, don't they...
He came back Sunday evening. It was an OMG moment. Absolutely covered in bites. Bedbug bites. Now I know I'm no clean freak but I can assure you, Reader, that his room had been cleaned that month. Turns out he'd slept on a mattress without a sheet at his grandparents and ye gods, the bugs had got him alright. So bad, I'm worried they'll scar and he thinks he's turned into 'Scaramanga'.
No school on Monday. And so the whole 'childcare' issue raises its head. Anyone else have this problem? Both parents working full-time. My schedule's busier than your schedule...blah, blah blah. Normally it would fall to me to be at home, but this mummy had to be at work on Monday so Husband took up the reins. The guilt really set in when Louis relunctantly said goodbye with a "Don't go. Don't leave me." Oh the guilt. The SMS* mode had been switched on...
Visit to the doctors confirmed a virus and so for the next couple of days, my little boy took up position on the sofa. He just about mustered the energy to put in his orders. I was deluged with a fairly constant stream of "Drink". "Apple"."Remote". Typical male really. Got me thinking about all the different roles us women have in our households. Cook, cleaner, dry-cleaner,teacher, banker. A 21st-century version of butcher, baker and candle-stick maker. Dammit, almost forgot the sex goddess role.
And no-one asks if we're ok... As my friends and I were discussing recently, we can't afford to be "off-colour". The wheels of England would fall off. Our day doesn't finish until the kids are in bed. And then we get to do something for us. Usually the tidying up, washing up and tackling the Mount Everest of ironing.
I'll stop moaning now. Back to Louis. Day 4 saw him getting a little better. His food intake now included all four of the main food groups. Chocolate, ice-cream, sweets and crisps. He was on the mend. Getting a little cheeky again. He knows the way to this mummy's heart. "Mummy, if you don't have anything on your schedule, could you get me a biscuit". Started trying to tell me that the doctor had advised him that he only needed medicine twice a day, and not the prescribed four. Bless his cottons...
And funnily enough, X-Box was on the approved list from the doctor. As he bravely made his way up to the games room, this mummy restored her control. "Don't exert yourself too much, Louis. You've got school tomorrow."
That perked him up no end...
*shitty mum syndrome
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