Last week, a violent illness ripped through my household, rendering the small males completely useless. Except their mouths. Of course it couldn’t disable their mouths, too. It was a strain of Man-Cold unlike anything I’d ever had the misfortune to witness before.
When it took out my 8 year old, he spent an entire day on the couch sleeping. Except when he wasn’t, and when he wasn’t he was complaining. And having me make him toast. And cover him with blankets. And get him any and ever thing he might need. When he felt a little better, he got to stay home in his pajamas and do whatever the hell he wanted all day while I still cared for him, making him toast, water, snacks even when he didn’t ask, and getting him any and every thing he might need.
When it took down my 6 year old, he spent an entire day refusing to sleep and complaining instead. The man-cold was strong in that one. He wanted toast, but didn’t want toast. He wanted jelly but didn’t want jelly. He wanted medicine but didn’t want medicine. He was tired but couldn’t sleep. His head hurt. His throat hurt. His horrible taste in TV hurt me. But still- I endured it. I got him the toast with and without the jelly. I made him special soup and covered him with blankets. He didn’t even have to ask- I got him any and every thing he might need.
The man cold has now taken down its third victim: Me. That’s right- I HAVE A MAN COLD! My head hurts, my body aches, I’m tired, I’m cranky, my throat is sore. I just want to lay on the couch in my pajamas and sleep while someone covers me with blankets and makes me toast and brings me things without me having to ask. And I DO have someone like that… Me.
Why don’t we moms get to man cold properly?
I didn’t get to lounge around wearing pajamas because I have kids to usher around like a proper chauffeur. No one was home to make me toast or cover me with blankets or bring me things. I made myself soup. Condensed. Because that’s the only crap we had and as the sick one, the only thing I has to energy to make for myself. I couldn’t just sleep all day because of things I hate to refer to as “responsibilities” and there’s no one here during the day to pick up the slack for me.
No. You see, I have come to a realization. Although we may WANT to man-cold, although we may DESERVE to man-cold with the worst of them, we simply cannot. Why? Well, because we’re women, and we don’t get man-colds. We get WOMAN-Colds. Which is like a man-cold, except we GET SHIT DONE OURSELVES. Power through. Because that’s just what we do.
….but I still want to lie down, complain, and man-cold like a mofo. A woman can dream.
Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.
Parenthood is when you start counting the minutes to bed time before 11am.
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