When my son, Peter, was 3 1/2 and Drew was not quite 1, we had rotovirus fly through the house. It didn't fly, actually, it lingered. For those of you who don't know, rotovirus is a nasty little stomach bug that can last a week. I had worked in our parish nursery that particular weekend, and 2 days later, Peter started with it, and Drew soon followed. I never got it, but my husband did. He was home from work for over a week. Between Andy and the boys, it was a full 3 weeks before it left our house.
The reason I bring this up is because I had a realization during that dreadful time. Mamas don't get sick days. No matter how sick we get, there simply is no rest for us. I am sitting and writing this from my bed. I have a meeting online for work in 30 minutes. Andy came home from work late this morning because he too has caught this respiratory bug that I have right now. He is resting peacefully on the couch. Michael had snuggled up with him, and I told him that I was going to work on my laptop from our bed, and that Michael would probably doze off next to him.
Ten minutes since that conversation, Andy is asleep, and I am sitting here writing this as I await my meeting. My dear, sweet Michael? He is rolling around on my bed. There truly will be no rest. I hate being sick!