I don’t know about anyone else but as soon as one person becomes poorly in our household, it’s suddenly just a downwards spiral until we have all been taken down by the lurgy! This time I was first, then Jack, and now Fin. When you’re poorly the last thing you want to do is have to run around after the hyper toddler, and meet the demands of a baby. It’s tough enough when you’re at your best, let alone when you feel you cant physically look after yourself!
Which is why we are so lucky to have such supportive parents, and both sets offered to have one child each for the night! Fin went to Jacks parents and Jacob went to mine. We were so grateful and I felt so much better for one day not having to worry about endless nappy changes, bottles, lunches, dinners, having to constantly tell the toddler to get off of the windowsill (atleast 10 times a day). Instead we were able to just lay on the sofa and catch up on rubbish TV, I even managed to have a bath at about 6pm!! Unheard of! It was just nice to relax.
However as much as not having the children around is nice at times, especially when you’re ill. Its quiet, too quiet. There is just something about having children in the house that suddenly makes it become a home. Yes, my house becomes a playground, and the show home I would like, is more to the standard of a grubby looking soft play area, but its my home, our home. It’s a place filled with memories such as first steps, first words, first smiles. Although the idea of sitting on my sofa watching Netflix is beyond a dream, where’s the meaning? Where’s my reason? My washing pile is never ending, it overflows daily, but where would I be without getting my babies into their adorable little pyjamas and co-ordinating outfits each day? My walls would be crisp, and the paint would never be scratched, my carpets would be the same colour as the day they were fitted, and I wouldn’t have to dodge bath toys during my relaxing bath. But I like the red stains on my wall from my toddler driving his cars up and down it, I like the little stain from where my toddler decides chocolate hand prints would look really good there, and I like that I stare at bath toys in my relaxing bath because I see his face, the face of wonder and innocence, the face that learns from everything he touches, the face of pure happiness.
A break is more than welcomed from time to time, but each time it happens, I miss them. Although they are only gone for one night, my home becomes just a house, the meaning in my day suddenly becomes irrelevant, and that’s when you realise what being a parent is. They are my reason, and although our house, and our family are just like any other ordinary family. It is our ordinary, and to me that makes them so wonderfully extraordinary.