Why aren’t they thankful? (men and kids and grateful and it is Not What You Think)

My kids have been poorly this week. Manboy had had a Mancold and a Manflu. I am Healthy. Of course. Someone has to be. My question is this; Do you feel looked after, cared for, burdens lifted when you are sick?

I have spent the last week looking after my kids and my man and none of them failed to under appreciate me. I am totally OK with this. Mostly. It is my joy to look after my family selflessly. I have been pooped on, puked on, tread on, slept on, weed on and had noses wiped on me. I  have thrown out 300kg of snotty tissue. I have made 50+ lemsips.  I have made honey and lemon tea, I have…lets just say I have Done All of The Mum Things. You all know what I mean.

I have, and continue to be, devoted to my selfless service.

I think, here, that we have the problem.

It is not selfless.

I am not a nun, a saint or a martyr. I am just a girl. A woman, A mum.

I want, no, need to feel that what i have suffered is appreciated. Not even that, I would be happy with acknowledged. 

Who feels me?

If I have brought you 300 drinks/tissues/lozenges/change of clothes…

did you notice?

I got one answer today. My oldest sniffed..’you are the best mum ever. smiff wuz you, smiff’

Does you husband notice when you look after him special? Probably not.

But in my case, I think it is only fair. He looks after me. OH NO I am not saying that he looks after me like a mum or a friend would while sick, no. But he looks after me in a husband way. He is strong when I am weak, he cheers me when I am sad, he backs me up when I am socially confused. He carries me when I am drunk, he feeds me when I am hungry. He is a father when I am tired of being a mother.

And I think I will get another Lemsip for him. After all, it will be wine o’clock soon.

Keep it real mums and dads.

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3 thoughts on “Why aren’t they thankful? (men and kids and grateful and it is Not What You Think)

  1. Nobody takes care of me when I’m sick. The last time I was super sick, my husband asked if I was going to make dinner or if he should figure it out. I hadn’t left bed in 48 hours, puking in a bucket and could barely move, but lemme just get up and make you some effing dinner. Jerk.

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