A case of gastro and mother love.

I’m sitting on our couch on Sunday night, which is now the early hours of Monday morning. I’m watching my little boy sleep, in between hurling his ringer up and wriggling around with the pain that comes with gastro. I’m poised with a bucket, tissues, Powerade, Spray & Wipe and hand gel. I’m contemplating a hazmat suit.

It’s gonna be a long night.

I apologise in advance for the fact that Mr Spewmanti was at basketball, two birthday parties and bingo over the weekend. He likes to get around. 🥴

I read a quote once that said having a child means you now watch your heart walk around outside of your body.

It’s corny but true.

In between wiping up spew and rubbing Elliot’s forehead, I’m reminded of all the women I know who are riding or have ridden the wave of motherhood when mothering is brutal, and I’m not talking about a sleepless night with a case of gastro.

Brutal is when your heart can be tearing apart and you wonder how the hell you’re going to get through what lies ahead. Somehow we muster up a kind of “super mother power”. We’re like Wonder Woman spinning into all of her glory while we chant “we ain’t got no time for that shit.”

Tonight I’m thinking of my beautiful friend who is currently sitting a bedside vigil in ICU with her son who was in a horrific car accident.

Tonight I’m thinking of a local mum who is preparing a memorial service for her son who was tragically taken in an accident on the way home from school.

Tonight I’m thinking of the mums I know whose children have been diagnosed with chronic illness.

Tonight I’m thinking of a friend whose teenager is trying to find himself and his identity.

Tonight I’m thinking of the mums I know who have lost children to cancer and the mum who has only recently found out.

Tonight I’m thinking of a friend who helped her child navigate his way through addiction.

Tonight I’m thinking of another whose child has been diagnosed with Autism.

Tonight I’m thinking of the mum whose daughter cries herself to sleep because she doesn’t think her body is the right shape.

I’m also thinking of the mums who are just having a crappy time for no other reason than that life can just suck giant turds sometimes.

Motherhood isn’t for the faint hearted. It also takes a tribe to keep us sane.

I’m lucky to have a circle of amazing women in my world. They’re the ones who have lifted me up when things in my world get a little sketchy. They check in, send a message, call for a quick chat that turns into hours of world problem solving. They lend a hand, make me laugh and have my back. They’re real, they’re raw and they don’t pretend to be anything but who they are. They’re all fabulous for many different reasons. They accept me and my foibles and teach me a lot.

So to all of the mums out there who are catching spew in buckets, researching teen behaviour, driving kids to appointments, wiping away tears, sitting by a hospital bed praying or simply managing to get the kids off to school on time without losing your mind….

You’re amazing.

Mums are incredible.

Don’t let anyone tell you anything else.

Disclaimer *Yes, dads are incredible too, but this blog is called Hoochiemumma not Hoochiepapa 😉.

M

The Glue to the Shit Show

As much as I am an absolute supporter and cheer squad for women who achieve brilliance in their lives, excel in their chosen pursuits and smash some ceilings, I wonder sometimes, who is cheering for the other kinds of amazing women?