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Coronahood, balancing the virus and motherhood…

by Publisher

People with large families getting Coronavirus is different, no one can tell me otherwise. If the virus doesn’t kill you your well meaning, overly concerned family will. But we’ll discuss that later. I first got my symptoms on a Monday morning, from feeling absolutely fine and remaining isolated, I went to having a throbbing headache and feeling a bit dizzy. Luckily my well meaning mum had already posted me some masks, which I had derided and tossed aside just two weeks earlier. Displaying more due diligence then I normally would I thought I better use one around the other house members as a precaution. At this point I was just assuming nothing is wrong but the idea of my husband contracting man flu from me, and the ensuing palaver that that would entail, is enough to make me normally wish I was in full hazmat gear when under the weather never mind when there is the threat of Coronavirus looming over us all. Apart from not being able to breathe freely because of the mask nothing really changed that day, we had a day of home schooling, three boys all sat around the kitchen island on various calls and projects needing to be fed and watered. By the end of that day if I didn’t feel like I’d just run a marathon keeping all those balls in the air – that would have been the real surprise not the fact that I felt like a post marathon mom, therefore again nothing remiss there.
It wasn’t for another two days, when I started to feel extremely lethargic that the next symptom triggered any alarm bells within me. The symptoms all seemed to have queued in quite an orderly fashion within my body to appear like models at a cat walk show at exactly the right interval and time, intermittent and persistent. The temperature and cough followed, the big show stopper was all of them coming together in a crescendo, putting on a great show all at the same time excited that they had all finally arrived. A show that once it had commenced, like a Dolly Parton performance you hoped would end within 9-5 minutes, seemed to play forever with no end in sight. I was of course by this point in social isolation form my children, and my husband had moved out into the guest room, ever the optimist I call this the silver lining. You know that dream you have when you’re a mum juggling 100 balls, the dream that one day people will stop making plans with you and you’ll be forced to stay in your room and not come out, for chores or play dates or trips to the shops or anything? It was a taste of that dream. Be careful what you wish for.

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