Car journey back from the Tesco weekly shop. Jeremy Vine on Radio 2 is interupted by terrified and incredibly OTT shrieks from the back of the car of
“HE IS BEING SICK!”
Alex is infected. With a sicky bug. The car stinks like a parmesan cheese factory.
No signs of infection spreading despite kids constantly licking each other and sharing sippy cups and spoons. High fives.
Sense of security increasing. No indication that infection has broken the perimeter of the lounge (last known location of Alex puking). Perimeter secure.
BAM! INFECTION RETURNS!
*SIRENS!* *SCI-FI MOVIE BLEEPING ALARM!*. Vomit is EVERYWHERE! Child number 2 chunders 3 times, passes out. Peace is restored.
*SIRENS!* *SCI-FI MOVING BLEEPING ALARM!*. Vomit is EVERYWHERE. Man down! Man down! The Captain is infected!
It was pretty bad. I hate to be smug about being the best at being ill, but I got it the worst. It floored me. My default and previously successful “GET AWAY FROM US YOU BITCH!” attitude to illness
had been gazumped. Han was out of it.
One day on and I feel better than I did, but to be honest, I would have benefited from a second day “off work”. But, I am a stay at home mum. I don’t get sick days. My husband took yesterday off because he had to. If we both worked full time and our childminder was sick, one of us would have to take time off. It so happens, I am the childminder. He would have had to have gone back to work today regardless, but turns out, infection did him in too, about 3am last night.
If I had a 9-5 job myself, and the kids were in childcare, I could have taken a second sick day off paid employment and gotten over this bug completly. But I don’t have a 9-5 job so, I had to no choice but to look after 2 kids as well as I could and remember it was important to put on clothes and not wear pj’s to leave the house. We are in quarantine so whilst the boys are running round the lounge healthier than they have been in weeks, they are still barred from playschool and public play areas. I am still weak like kitten but I need to entertain them somehow. If I had a day off “work” I would be able to fester on the sofa, drinking lucozade and dozing, ready to go all guns blazing, like this
This isn’t a dig at anyone or anything really, this is just a “mums who get poorly and are stay at home mums don’t get sick days” nod. This is a nod of solidarity to all those mothers out there who get where I am coming from.