We are into week 2 of a nasty flu bug that she picked up at the daycare. It’s the nastiest we’ve seen by far. Two nights at the hospital, days away from daycare, unrelenting fever of 40 degree Celcius, mucous in her nose, throat and chest. Being the kind and sharing soul that she is, I’m the latest recipient of the bug. And hating every minute of it. It’s like having the whole thing twice over!
So, after a whole night of being attached to my breast, only taking breaks for Ventolin and Nurofen when things got rough, she woke up in the morning somewhat cheerful and lunged into dada’s arms. From that moment on, she has wanted nothing to do with me. The mum, who sat up for hours and held her upright so she could breathe easier through that stuffy nose, is being pushed away. I felt bad for 10 whole seconds. Like any caring parent would. Then it hit me! I started counting the number of things I could get done now, with both arms and no bubba on my hips (or breast).
Fifteen minutes later, here I am, in front of the computer typing away. Dada is making her breakfast, feeding her and cleaning with her. She doesn’t want me anywhere near her.
(Oops, did I say that aloud?)
Should I fold the clothes next or wash the dishes? Maybe, I should catch up on my emails. I wonder if she will hold off long enough for me to shave my legs. Oh dear, the hair on my legs just stood up at that thought! Oh wait, a long, warm shower. Or a bath. A bath! I should make a list and start ticking items off it. How many items can I get done before father or daughter decide that I’m having too much fun?
I have a little voice in my head warning me that I won’t get anything done if I keep at my list. I should run while I can. Before I know it, dada will be knocking on my door with a warning that he has to get back to work. Gosh, this is so stressful!
So, this is what it means to be a 24X7 mum! When fun things are doing chores or brushing teeth and planning which of the ‘fun things’ to do another chore in itself. This was supposed to be fun but I can feel the clock ticking in my head. She is going to come asking for a breast-feed again. He is going to want to hand her over and get back to his computer. I won’t even be able to finish my shower. Oh my God, this is crazy! I better rush.
Dad just knocked on the door. Shower! I think I’m going to take a shower. Maybe I’ll get lucky again for one of the other things later today. Maybe later in the week. Soon!