Credit: Kelly Sikkema / Unsplash
Imagine you are interviewing for a job. You’ve been told about its wonderful perks. The staff is incredibly friendly and loving. You’ll have vacations together with them, even. On one special day each year, they’ll treat you like royalty. Oh, and the job security is amazing. You’ll likely work there for the rest of your life.
Just as you’re thinking these pros sound amazing, there are a few cons you might want to consider. Firstly, there is no time off. You’ll be expected to work every day of the year, every hour of the day. There will be zero salary and no benefits. Oh, and you can never, ever take a sick day.
This job, at least in my mind, is that of a parent. Specifically, being a mom at times can be more than exhausting. And while the natural flow of duties and responsibilities of a household often go without problematic errors, few notice the job you’re doing if you’re doing it well. It is not until mom is sick that things really start to crumble, and you realize (and hopefully they do, too) just how much a family needs you.
As you may have guessed, I’ve spent the last two weeks sick. What I thought was allergies at the on-set, was soon a vicious cough. A few days of fever, complete exhaustion (yes, even more so than the usual mom-tired trudge), headache, stuffy head … well, I soon realized it was likely more. A quick trip to the doctor confirmed it was thankfully not RSV nor Covid, both of which have been going around locally. What is most likely a virus (read docs cannot help) continues to keep me sidelined, even as I write.
I have strange cycles of “sick.” I have the first, earliest stages where I convince myself for a few days that it is not happening. That’s probably just some dust kicked up that’s making me sneeze. I’m just having some early spring allergies, and that’s why I’m stuffy. I call this stage my Denial.
My second stage is the “I Can Beat This” era. I will pump fluids 24/7, eat healthy foods, down Zycam, Air Borne, and Emergen-C like candy. I will battle this wanna-be-illness into submission.
These typically lead me to the current stage. The “Damn, I am actually sick” phase. This is not a pretty phase. And I am terrible at forcing myself to rest and recover.
I should mention I struggle to relax, to find calm even on my best of days. I don’t sit still very well, especially when there are mountains of things to be done. I can’t truly even end my day for sleep without completing chores I find to be necessary. So, when I am sick, I basically am in a 24/7 brain battle with myself.
Logically, I know I need rest. I know I need to take it easy. My job is gratefully understanding. Those dishes will still be there. The laundry will wait. But I’m rather terrible at giving myself any grace, and instead spend sickness thinking of all I’m not accomplishing, beating myself up for letting this bug get me. I tried to rally back into work Monday, only to make myself more rundown and worse.
That’s my “I’m Sure It’s Over Now” phase, which is where I think it is all fine and convince myself to struggle on, but soon find I’m too sick to do so. This leads to the final defeat, admitting I am actually sick, and making myself nap, sleep, and drink fluids.
Some have told me if you don’t take care of yourself, your self will force you to by becoming ill. Apparently, my self-care game is weak, because this illness is kicking my butt. I have been left with no choice but to give in and try to recover.
What makes all of these crazy steps even more difficult is enduring them while also being a mom. You’d be amazed (if you aren’t one yourself) how much a mom does in a day. You’d marvel at the amount of bizarre crap that is stuffed into my head at any given moment. Thoughts like “We’re almost out of laundry detergent” float around with “Don’t forget to make your youngest a dental appointment.” We go through our workdays, focused on the job at-hand, while in the background of our minds, responsibilities like “The dog bowls need to be washed and refilled” and “Look for the living room remote later” shuffle about.
At the end of the day, it is those million tiny things, those things no one notices or likely thinks about at all, that strangely go undone, remain missing, or cause confusion in the family when mom is no longer there to do them. Those that remain healthy scramble to make it work with quick fixes (take-out dinners) and band-aids (just rewear that dirty shirt).
I used to joke when my kids were younger that they’d run feral in the streets while I’m sick, and I’d likely be unable to fight it. They’d go unfed, unbathed, with hair unbrushed for days. This was not, by any stretch of the imagination, the reality. Just mom guilt and what I envisioned happening in my mind if I remained sick too long.
Now, with two teens, it is more a matter of the house being void of junk food, an ever-growing amount of partially drunken water bottles, and a shortage of paper plates that will be noticed. At least they’re old enough to feed and bathe themselves.
Being a mom isn’t easy. It never is. But when mom is sick, it causes a whole lot of disruption to the household. Maybe it is a good time to remember just how much moms do (or did growing up) for you.
