* Florence NIghtingale was a nurse in the 1800s, famed for her selfless dedication to taking care of the sick and injured

For the past

hundred years

six weeks, we've had a round of sickness in our house. Nothing terribly serious, just various bugs, colds, coughs, viruses……all made worse by the way they make little people feel miserable and frequently cause them to wake up all through the night needing various medication and attention. We are a Panadol factory. A different variety for every member of the family. I swear, I must have 8 different types in the medicine box which is quickly taking over the pantry. Do not come near my house because I will greet you at the door with a Panadol suppository in one hand and a syringe full of Nurafen in the other. Show me an orrifice and I will put medicine in it. It has become a reflex action. ANYWAY. Compounding the difficulty factor has been that my husband was away for a few weeks. The first child got sick the day he left and then everyone began keeling over like….I don't know what….a lot of keeling over things.

Obviously, as the

hero

legend

mother,I was not allowed to get sick and I kept up my end of this deal right up until the day before Jason came home. Then I succumbed for 72 hours to a raging head cold. Not that I could lie in bed or anything

helpful

well-deserved

silly like that. Oh no. Because kids were still sick and still needed Mummy.

Finally, after weeks, Coco's cough wound up a few days ago.  And then Luca caught a cold. Then he got better and Coco picked up his cold. Her cough is back. Remy has a fever. Sometimes it feels like I live at my GP. Maybe I should just move in. Take up residence. And open my own pharmacy.

Let me just say right here that I'm lucky and I bloody know it. My children are not really sick and I am unspeakably grateful for that happy fact. My heart breaks for any parent who has to cope with seriously ill children. But as a mother (and it's always the mother that the kids want, even when Dad is around and helping as much as he can), sometimes I just feel like my ability to be Florence and emmate endless compassion and sympathy and attend to all manner of requests and needs from my kids….well, sometimes I just run out of Florence-ness.

Sometimes the well is empty.

Fortunately, it's always temporary and it fills back up somehow magically and I'm quickly able to administer medicine and love and soothing noises once again. I'm not proud of the fact that I'm not a human tap of loving servitude but there you go. Can anyone relate? ANYONE????