A Day in the Life Of...

1am: awake to horrible sound, choking? Coughing? Gagging. Oh no it’s vomiting. Stumble out of bed, see silhouette of boy child violently regurgitating lovingly prepared Coq Au Vin into basin. Get him back to bed with bowl and towel and return to chaos. Plug won’t come out properly, try to poke bits of chicken and carrot (we didn’t even have carrot) down the hole with plug in way. My lovely dinner – my soul is destroyed.

1.30am: Return to bed, and worry. Worry about work, worry about money, worry about the Hutus and the Tootsies in Rwanda. In the morning I won’t care, but 1.30 in the morning seems to be automatically reserved for mindless worry.

2.30: Husband child leaps out of bed in fright. ‘Boy Child is vomiting.’ Thanks for noticing the first time. Lights are switched on and off, there is crashing and banging and noise. I hide in bed – does he have to be so noisy? “The bowl you gave him wasn’t big enough’ he says “he’s vomited all through his bed.’ I reach for my figurative ‘bad mother’ badge - lately I’ve been wearing it a lot.

3.30: Repeat of 1am. We both collapse back into bed. I ridiculously ponder how it might still be possible to send boychild to school – bit of make up to cover pale skin and cup of pamol? Begin sleepy ‘my job is more important than your job’ conversation – someone must stay home. I have meetings. I do too. Mine are really important. Are you saying mine are not?
7.30: Wake with a start. Early vet appointment for cat to get $300 stitches out. Spot cat, grab cat cage, reach for cuppa. Where is cat? Search house. Dam. Race outside shaking cat biscuits. “Daffodil, Daffodil. Where are you stupid cat?” I stand in the rain, in pyjamas, rattling a box of biscuits screaming for a spring bulb.’ Even in Paekakariki I am looking odd!
7.45: Cancel vet, drive to work drinking tea and stuffing down toast.
9am: Meeting of millions over video conference. ‘Who is chairing this meeting? “You.” Oh dear Lord. Listen to monotonous droning. I have no idea what they are talking about. The tea hasn’t worked. I need coffee.
10am “What’s your opinion Cas? Oh no is this still the same meeting? It seems inappropriate to say what I really think. A quick power nap is all I need – where’s the sick bay?
6pm: Drive home. Arrive to Chinese laundry, bedding hanging all over house. Husband child is exhausted from trying to tend to boychild and work from home. What shall we have for dinner?
Gaze into fridge – and there it is. Left over Coq au Vin. Hmmmm. How about toast?