Working on Wednesdays

Arghhhhhh! Now breath.
So today, the little man was wheezing and cuddly and just wanted to feed all night and morning. His Daddy was working and I needed to go to work and we are both on temporary contracts (his more than mine) so time off is rather frowned upon. My children have, due to this, begun getting sick on Wednesdays as they know this is the day we find hardest to get alternative childcare. We have foiled all their attempts to have a stay at home parent once more, so far only I have missed one Wednesday and that was last minute due to Tobys last ditch attempt and sudden escalation of cold to severe chest infection in 60 minutes flat.
Toby this week has been flitting between poorly and well roughly every half an hour (except at night when he is full on poorly and needs to feed or sleep on my chest pretty much for 8 hours). I took him to nursery, signed in a calpol sachet and his inhaler, told them to ring me not Dad if he got worse, and went to work feeling guilty. Then felt even more guilty when I read the nursery Christmas party invite and figured out we have nobody to take him and he is probably going to miss out. Then got to work and cried on a colleagues shoulder because I felt like a crap parent. But on the plus side I found my mobile in my bag whilst looking for a tissue , instead of it being lost somewhere in the house like I'd thought (and ran everywhere looking for before we set off).

So, work was fab and fun, no phonecalls from nursery, went to pick him up and he'd been fine, even eaten for the first time in 2 days, then slept solid for 2 hours 20 minutes. Next time he is ill, he'll be off to nursery to get better.

Went to pick the girl up from Grandad. She looked tired....uh oh. Trudged home, made it with no pleading/shouting/bribery/tears.....feel like superwoman. Then had a rather stressful 30 minutes sorting out a phonecall, a dvd rack emptying toddler, a 5 year old worrying about a dvd rack emptying toddler, and cooking a rather fiddly tea that got moved from Monday and will NEVER EVER be cooked on a Wednesday 'busy walking small children home and having Adam home for 20 minutes inbetween film club and scouts and getting pe kits washed very quickly' night EVER AGAIN.

But it tasted nice. To me and James. The children had a cold/lingering urine infection/cough/tiredness/general mistrust of food thing going on.
I ran up and down a few hundred times running a bath (the boy bombed on scouts to get better for school trip tomorrow), getting pjs, brushing hair, getting milk and weetabix and bourbon biscuits and more milk, writing a nativity cast list and basic walkthrough, changing the washer, finding thermals (in a carrier bag I sent up to his room in AUGUST for him to empty and put away), fixing a marble run, putting dvds away (twice), brushing teeth, reading a story about Tom and his elastic band and replacing batteries in a nightlight frog.

And now I am sat. Trying to figure out how to get my littlest man to his nursery Christmas party without feeling massively guilty that I am only 5 minutes up the road but can't be there so that he can be there. Hopefully I will figure something out, that's what superwoman do, after all ;)