Some days I think I can do anything and others, well, I just feel overwhelmed with everything that needs to be done. I think all working mums can relate to this and recently it has felt particularly hard with most of the house struck down with ‘man-flu’ (I have 2 sons and a husband). This week I faced another working day juggling a sick small person and this is how I did it

5.05am: wake up to “Mummy, I am going to spew” and then find myself being vomited on along with the sheets, doona, never mind the carpet.

5.10am: tuck sick child up on couch with fresh PJs, blanket and spew bucket.

5.15am: start first load of washing whilst cursing the heavy rain outside.

5.20am: wander around the house with disinfectant and cloth wiping up errant accidents from our new puppy.

5.30am: Inject first cup of coffee. Jump on to social media and check all my clients’ accounts and frantically scan any emails that came in overnight and flag a few to action later.

6.15am: start the morning routine of breakfasts, making lunches and throwing out commands to pack bags and brush teeth.

7.55am: Frantically shower myself and pray that no-one spills toothpaste on ties or vegemite on jumpers.

8.05am: Command my eldest out the door and walk him to school, whilst directly hubby to watch sick child, non-toilet trained puppy and ignore the phone.

8.30am: back from school run. Make myself some breakfast and sit down at the computer. Start taking phone calls and eventually shovel down some cold baked beans on toast.

9.30am: in between calls “mum, I’m hot, mum, I’m cold” try and reschedule my working day now that I am not going in to the office. Realise that I still need to keep one appointment with a new client but luckily it is local.

10.50am: give up trying to work in between disruptions from sick child and go and sit and watch the Simpsons with him whilst enjoying another coffee- small perk – it is still hot.

12.05: leave house with sick child in toe with promises of “squashed frog” from Dome if he sits nicely during my meeting.

12.10 Arrive 10 minutes late to meeting and explained sick child in tow and then pretend am consummate professional and get on with talk of social media, blogs and such.

12.55pm: Leave meeting and take sick child to Dome for promised “squashed frog” (a milkshake with a chocolate frog on top) Get to enjoy another hot coffee with the bonus that someone else made it.

1.40pm: arrive home to find washing has all been rained on, the puppy has had another accident on the rug and my inbox overflowing with messages.

1.55pm: promise sick child screen time etc if he sits quietly whilst I work for the next hour. Attempt to do some copywriting for a new client website and my brain overflows with images of dull parenting duties rather than inspired ideas to sell a cool new product.

3.05pm: hubby arrives home and mercifully I can pick up our other son without dragging sick child out.

3.45pm: Assist older son unpack school bag, look disdainfully at homework and pretend I didn’t see it and start making rounds of raisin today for afternoon tea.

4.15pm: sit down with children and tell them we should watch a documentary so that I can pretend I am an uber-mum.

5pm: calls for more food can be heard whilst I am tucked in the office trying to get some work done (and remind myself this is why I have an office outside of the home)

5.15pm: complain to husband that am too tired to cook. He suggests he ‘cook’ his go to dish – toast. Seems reasonable and I hope that the boys never tell anyone about my shabby parenting.

6pm: throw both boys in the bath and dive back in to the office to work only to be lured out with shrieks of crazy laughter as the boys attempt to entice our puppy in to the bath with them.

7pm: The boys get PJs on and in between begging for computer time and the need for biscuits, we negotiate some ‘golden time” – our lovely school invented this as a reward and we use it at home for wind down, quiet time before bed.

7.35pm: tuck boys in to bed. Negotiate 5 books down to 2 and make my older son promise to only read till 8.30pm

7.45pm: move on to my other drink addiction – tea and sneak back in to the office to catch up on some work.

8.30pm: Hubby decrees it is shut down time and we turn off the screens and head to bed. I open a book and more than likely fall quickly asleep only to be awoken at 9.45pm by a skirmish between the puppy and cat. Complain to husband that the puppy has to go. At this threat, he says they will both move out and I say, don’t tempt me. Finally fall fitfully asleep and wonder how I will do it all again tomorrow.

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