Working Mummy Guilt

I was making my porridge at 7 this morning when Henry crawled over to me and was sick all over the floor. We had a quick cuddle to stop the tears, the antiseptic wipes came out for the floor and I changed Henry into clean PJs before getting him in the car to drive him to my mum's like usual. I felt sick with guilt; if I hadn't been so busy I would have been crying too. I felt awful at having to leave my little boy when he was so poorly.

He spent the morning being sick, being washed, having his nappy changed (I'll spare you the details), having his PJs stripped off and new ones put on (4 lots so far), cuddling in and sleeping on his Marmar's knee. I should have been doing those things but I was teaching 10 year olds how to partition decimals and find evidence from the text when reading. I know I'm so lucky to have a mum there to help on sick days and I know Henry couldn't have been looked after any better than he was this morning. But the guilt was just awful. I don't think there was a minute where I didn't think about him, I must have checked my phone a hundred times and I raced out of school at lunchtime.

We're now snuggled on the sofa at home, PJs on, towels at the ready in case of more sick. Let's just hope he's feeling better tomorrow, poor baby boy. Being a mummy is really hard sometimes.