MUMMAAAAAY WHERE IS DADDY I DON'T WANT YOU.
NURSE CAN I HAVE SOME CRISPS AND ICE CREAM PLEASE BECAUSE I'M POORLY.
NURSE MUMMY WHERE ARE YOU?
Just putting my head in the oven, be with you in a second.
ARE YOU COOKING MY LUNCH MUMMY?
NURSE MUMMY CAN I HAVE A DRINK MY THROAT IS SO SORE AND POORLY.
Oh the joys of looking after a sick child. Everything is either amplified and they get on your nerves more than they normally do or they turn into sad little mice. Fortunately she only has a cold, unfortunately that means her inside voice has turned into a shrill shriek alongside one billion demands per second. Oh my ears!
I've never had a ton of patience, especially when I've had to nurse my husband on his sickbed (ie. never because I NEVER get nursed on mine and I don't get a day off to be ill either but you get my drift... manflu is enough to drive any sane woman to madness... manflu does not equal death) but I thought having a child went hand in hand with having all the patience in the world. Yesterday I realised that's a crock of shit, having a child doesn't mean you're any more patient than... well, I don't know what really.
And don't get me started on looking after a sick child when you're not 100% yourself (I don't remember my body aching like this since the newborn stage). I'm as snappy as snappy the alligator (who?!). Every single demand that's thrown at me is met with a tut and an eye roll (ok maybe not the reasonable ones - cuddles, calpol, watching a dvd... I'm not a complete monster) and a countdown until bedtime until I remember that bedtime is sure to be a pain in the arse and the hours that follow, equally horrendous.
When do we, as mothers, get a break? When will we hear that all mothers are entitled to 5 sick days a year (PAID), 30 days holiday and a hefty bonus? Somebody, please?
I'm asking for what's left of my sanity.