Confessions of a Single Mother: Me and Only Me

Today both Maia and myself are unwell.

It’s a bit shit really.

It started off with just me feeling poorly, a sore throat and feverish; which of course was no biggie. (No biggie, but still rather a nuisance; I missed my drama classes which I look forward to all week, and I had to cancel dinner plans with some friends I hadn’t seen in months, so all in all zero fun to be had).

As much as I often think I’d love to stay in bed a few more hours, being made to do so sort of takes the joy away from it. I read, sipped honey and lemon, then just lay there with my eyes closed half listening to Maia downstairs and half thinking up my five-year plan. At one point I tried to sleep but I could hear Maia crying and by 4pm it was clear she too had a fever.

It’s now 10pm and she’s sat downstairs with Grandma and a hot water bottle on her little feet, having just brought back up her entire dinner along with the Calpol Grandma tried to give her. We took her temperature which she seems to rather enjoy (I suspect is was having the thermometer under her armpit that made her feel special). Now every time we discuss giving her Calpol she looks at me, with a stern expression and serious look in her eye and very assertively says “Mummy, do NOT say that, please stop talking!”.

There will be no mention of the C word.

So today’s been rather crappy. My throat is still sore, nose still resembling a leaky tap and I keep taking my jumper off only to put it back on again; undecided whether I’m too hot or shivering.

But if anything good has come out of today it’s that:
a.) I read a few pages of L’art de la Simplicite by Dominique Loreau (which is all about living more with less, and which I’ve learnt never to read downstairs, surrounded by clutter).

b.) I spent thirty minutes on my new sewing machine this evening. JOY.

c.) When Maia was calling for me this afternoon, I came out of my room, picked her up and just held her, rocking her for a few magical moments. She put her head on my shoulders, stopped crying and in a split second I felt her calm. I felt her body shift from worked up to relaxed and settled just like that. And with that, it was as if her calm somehow transferred to me, so I closed my eyes and rocked her, just like when she was a baby, and I felt more at ease, more connected, and more empowered than I have in a long time. – Just from one little cuddle with my poorly child. Knowing that she wanted me and only me, made me feel more needed, more purposeful, more loved, than ever.