I am here going to officially reveal the one failing of my husband. (Of course there are many more but I’m not about to broadcast it on the world-wide web.) He’s not a doctor. Don’t laugh. I’m serious. The 3 Princes have been sick for 3 weeks – one after the other. As one came off antibiotics the other began. I myself had a brief spell of sinusitis (yes I’m an acute sufferer) which went to my ears and threatened to become an ear infection.

Is it only me? Am I the only one who’s been hit hard by the sick season. It’s not even winter anymore.

When I say been hit hard. I mean sitting with my 5-year-old Prince for 24 hours by the toilet bowl. My biceps having a wonderful work out as I dragged him from the bed every time he moaned, ‘My tummy’s sore’ racing to the loo – just in time. For the yellow, green guck. Caused by something like double cooked chicken (this is why I really do have a good policy against left overs. Can’t bear them.) with a fancy bacterial name beginning with C. This is why I need a nurses course, or something. When they do finally organise parenting school and make it mandatory for all of us to attend, nursing will have to be on the syllabus.

Needless to say my Sunday of yogaing, family chilling and even a bit of was over. The one Sunday where we had no parties, no commitments Рnothing! I found myself doing stretches on the bath. (Those diarrhea spells can take a while sometimes.) I spent the day fretting over how much Rehydrate he was drinking. (I am definitely aging prematurely. I have grey hairs and wrinkles ready to sprout. Having kids is not a worry free, relaxing activity, and after 7 years it shows.)  Every ten minutes he was going at one stage, until finally he settled down into an exhausted sleep and I lay with him and slept myself to be rudely awakened by my first Prince. Who slammed the door open and asked if he could watch the cricket on TV. I think I burst into tears. Okay I admit it I did.

Is there anything more exhausting??? I’m sure there is and I realised that it was a not normal day. Which made me realise how blessed I should feel on the normal days. I should be toasting flutes of champagne with happiness. It’s the truth. Enumerating all the blessings. As another mother said to me as we moaned how burnt out we are. ‘When I think of the two children who are in rehabilitation…’ We don’t even need to finish that sentence we all know. (And we all need to keep praying for them.) Perspective, perspective, perspective.

Not to say we can never complain, or cry, or be frustrated, or burnt out. But it’s energising and empowering to realise that within all the craziness (especially at this time of year as we tie up all the ends) we are blessed, have choices and can choose life, happiness and purpose. Even if it’s driving back home because you brought your kid to school in civvies on a school uniform day as I did today. ‘We can spend more time in the car together,’ I said. He nodded happily. High five. It was a good moment.

And yes about my husband being a doctor. Well as my mother in law said to me, ‘Why should he be a doctor. You should be one.’ Thanks very much women’s rights.