Ever have one of those days where someone says ‘How you doing?’, and you reply ‘Surviving’?
Or worse, where no one asks.
I get up, and deal with the normal ruckus that goes on in our house in the morning. We had a few late nights in a row, so we’ve got some over-tired kids.
Isla can’t find her jumper. “It’s in the wash, remember, it’s been raining, I’m still trying to catch up.”
Fern storms through the house, banging cupboards, bumping into kids. I send her away for some quiet time.
Myka sits at the table, waiting for breakfast. Not so patiently.
I call Rory to the table, and she promptly bursts into tears. I ask her to come back when she’s finished the waterworks.
Jax comes and tells me he’s got a headache. I tell him I don’t care, I’m dealing with a million-and-one other things right now.
I serve breakfast, with only half the kids in tears.
Later, I feel Jax’s head. He’s really warm. Poor kid is actually sick. And I told him I didn’t care. Crap. A case of Mummy Guilt strikes.
The phone rings, “Hey honey,” says my Mother, “how are you doing?”
“Fine,”, I say, “just fine.”
I smile.
Someone cares.
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