Today was long.

Eva is sick. Enough said right. Every mum can relate. All you need to say is ‘my kid is sick’ and every mum hears your resounding cry.

It’s been a long, hard few weeks of back to back sicknesses in this household. Starting with Ari. Followed by me, ending in Eva, and believe it or not, u-turning back to me. Nelson may be playing his own symptoms down and claims the reason behind his cough is an itchy throat. I plead to the God’s that’s all it is, because right now, he’s helping me hold the fort, and if he becomes another fallen soldier I might just give up and let the kids fend for themselves (lol – what a tale that would tell).

I’ve never had the greatest of immune systems, and I know some people can just push through and keep going even while being sick. I’ve never been one to do that. My body doesn’t respond that way. If I don’t rest while I’m sick (I mean proper sick, not just a little cold), my body will retaliate with an even stronger virus. So when I am really sick, I need to take time out, I need to lay in bed, I need to really rest and let my body do the restoration it needs, otherwise we’re all worse off for it. That’s my body. It was like that pre kids and it’s like that post kids.

Sometimes my mum guilt kicks in though, along with shame and comparison. The voice of comparison that has me asking why can’t I just soldier on like all the other mums that do it. Why do I have to rely on the help of my husband to get through. Why am I weak. Then the voice of logic chimes in with reason. It’s a shame that the other voice is louder.

Why do we do this to ourselves. Why do we need to prove that at our physically weakest, we can still do it all, when really we shouldn’t be doing anything at all. Why does comparison and (although we all refuse to admit) competition reign supreme with mothers. I’d love to know when in time this emerged, or was it always there, from the first moment the second woman on earth had a baby. I’d hate to think so. The fact is, we’re all already strong and capable and magical and enduring just by being mothers. Why do we need to go beyond that?

Why when hearing another mother vent about her hard day, do we need to eclipse her experience by emphasising just how harder our day was. Why can’t we just sit in their struggle with them and empathise and leave it there. Our day may have been harder, but it’s all relative right?

That’s the woman I strive to be. That’s the woman I’m convicted to be. We all do it. Me included. We either compare or we aim to fix. Give solutions where solutions aren’t asked for. I strive to be the woman who just listens. Who just tells her friend “I understand, I see you, I’m sorry your day has been hard” and leave it at that. Sometimes, the moment just simply is not about you/me/us. It’s about them. If I become one less mum to compete with or compare to, then I’m happy. Our contributions are just not needed at times, unless explicitly asked for. I’m learning this, even as I type, I’m being convicted and I’m learning. I ask why, because I do it too. I’m that mother too, and having it done to me woke me up to it, woke me up to the realisation I don’t need it. So If I can be one less mother/wife/friend that’s putting that out into the world, then at least I’ve played my part. We have enough of the patriarchy doing this to us, comparing us, pitting us against each other, we don’t need to do it to too.

It’s funny how these entries turn out. In my mind, I had a completely different angle I wanted to lean in on, yet this is what came out as I started typing.

I wanted to touch on my husband and how lucky I am to have his help and how guilty I feel for having it. Being sick will bring these feelings up haha.

I guess I can leave that for another day, another entry.

Learning to be a mum, a friend that listens without comparison or solution, this was what wanted to be said.

This is excerpt 4.