It was bound to happen. The girls had been in daycare and school for about 3 years now, and with Weasel’s hair I was not looking forward to it. Yes – the dreaded head lice.

Ewwwww.

That’s what I think too.

Happy Mother’s Day to me, hurruh! I haven’t had nits since I was a kid, and boy have I not missed it. What a pain in the bum. Spent the weekend stripping beds, washing hats, soaking brushes and combs…awesome.

Ok, for most households they might strip the beds weekly and having to do it is no big deal, but I hate it. It hurts my back and my old lady hip, and I loathe putting quilt covers back on. I’m not going to say how often I change the sheets but it sure isn’t weekly.

Ewwwwww.

Meh. Judge me all you like. You’ve seen photos of my housekeeping. You’re not allowed to be surprised.

So now, despite having done all the de-lousing (I was nit free by the way, as was Bubba – score for short crappy haircuts) I am suddenly itchy. Really itchy. My brain has decided imaginary nits are the way to go. Either that, or I reacted to the nit shampoo, which is a fair possibility.

I sent the girls to school today of course, but I feel bad about it. What if I missed a feisty little bugger who starts a class party? They’re only supposed to stay home until treated, but I’m going to feel so bad if a note comes home advising of an outbreak. It wasn’t me, I tried to get them all, I swear I did!

Once again, this evening I get to comb everyone through, and tomorrow night, etc etc, until I’m sure we’re clear. I can barely get the comb through D and Weasel’s stupid long and thick hair. At least D doesn’t cry. This sucks. Where’s a lice eating shoulder monkey when you need one?

Being that I have no idea what Labour Day is actually for, besides having a day off, I’m going to admit that ever since I had kids I always think labour=childbirth. I’m also surprised the Labor Party don’t advocate more about women’s issues as they’d be leveraging millions of women’s childbirth wracked minds if they did.

I only laboured once. I was one of those first time noobs who actually voice the question “how do I know if I’m in labour?” Now I know why it caused such an uproar of laughter. It’s pretty unmistakeable, and completely unlike the movies. Very rarely does your water break, and even if it does, the doctor doesn’t care and nobody rushes you to hospital in a comedic yet charming fashion.

What I remember most about my labour is the end, when sirens went off and people came rushing into the room. I had no idea what that was all about – I actually thought we were being evacuated! Perhaps the gas was working….

Eventually I came to understand the emergency was my baby, who was born with the cord around her neck and unresponsive.

Horrible confession time

Instead of being in a panic about my baby, I was more concerned with myself. I’d left my husband a month before, was homeless and had run away to my parents house, and the next stage of my life hinged on having this baby. What if there was no baby? What if it was all for nothing? What if, after all I’d been through, I had absolutely nothing to show for it and was forced to go back to my old life?

Weasel came through it just fine obviously, but my thoughts in those few moments have stuck with me ever since. So selfish, at a time when the universe once and for all stopped revolving around me. It didn’t take long to forgive myself, but I’ve never forgotten. My very first Bad Mummy moment.

So for today, on Labour Day, here’s a little gift to all women who’ve laboured, whether it’s gone to plan or not.

 What do you remember most about your labour?