Tales from the mother ship
A thing I was not prepared for regarding parenthood: the stomach bug. My kids are fairly tolerant, but me, whether it is from handling laundry, cleaning bathrooms, or occasionally cleaning up on aisle number 2, I am exposed and exposed and exposed to the virus. It might be a sheer numbers game. Had I just a single child, maybe I could dodge this thing, but with a young one coming home from nap times and probably a day of rambling around with other virus carriers, I think I may be doomed.
“NO! don’t like that washing hands! I have to play! I’m tired! ow, the water is cold/hot/wet!” (small child goes running wildly away, me chasing with sanitizer that I actually rub up my arms to the elbows wishing if only)
But the virus floats and circulates and lands where ever. And then lives. Survives. Defies.
Hey, haven’t had a flu or a head cold and any colds in forever. But when it comes to the stomach virus, I might as well have a target on my back. Or rather, my stomach.
You’d think I’d lose weight. No, still the pounds hang in there, and usually I am starving for food that is salty and carby and bad for you.
I drink soothing, probiotic teas with lemon juice and ginger and mint and cinnamon.
Still my teeth float and I’m dizzy and I’m fatigued.
Night time seems the worse time, so all my symptoms are compounded.
But a parent doesn’t get a break. Someone who works from home doesn’t get a break.
“Mom, you’re hair is beautiful.”
“Surprise!” Balloons shower down from the stairs.
Life is good, even while I’m a bit seasick.
One day, in the future, when my youngest is better about hand washing and isnt napping on floors with other outbreak spider monkeys like him, when cleaning up on aisle two isn’t my one-woman job, and when I can get a full nights rest more often than not...
“mom, is it morning? the sun is up!”
“..that’s the street lamp..the moon is out..go back to sleep..”
“I’m hungry.... I want to play.... I can’t sleep.... I’m thirsty....”
stumble stumble trip stub curse