During our last battle with a stomach bug from hell, my children passed around a stomach virus for exactly three weeks. Twenty-one days of pajamas, Sprite, diarrhea, vomit and all the Disney movies we could watch. I was passing out popsicles like they were Jell-o shots on spring break.

After passing out the first round of popsicles Aubrey said she was hungry and wanted to know if she could have a “bee-nah” (that’s banana.)

“No honey. It will make you throw up.”

“Can I have some yogrit or some granola?”

“No. You can have as much Sprite and as many popsicles as you want but no food. It will make your tummy hurt.”

She looked at me confused. I could see the wheels turning, “You mean to tell me all of my life I’ve been living a lie? You’ve said junk food would make me sick, and now that I am sick, all I can have is junk food? You’ve lost it, woman.”

“I can’t eat any healthy food?” she asked.

“Nope, popsicles and Sprite.”

She grinned from ear to ear as she went to lie down on the sofa bed I had pulled out specifically for our Disney movie marathon.

We’ve had stomach viruses’ that wiped out our entire family at once, but this was more of a slow selective process.

I’ve recently been out of commission for several days and I have discovered exactly how useful I am. I have learned in the last week, that my husband doesn’t know where I “hide” my socks, and my mother has literally forgotten how to cook in the 13 years I’ve been gone from home.

When Momma is sick, your entire household learns lesson after valuable lesson. You people know me, or at least you’re starting to. I’m no June Cleaver, dinner isn’t served at the same time everyday and half the time when I leave my house in the morning someone in my brood is wearing pajamas. (And occasionally, yes, it’s me.)

But I’ve realized since I’ve been depending on others for a few days, that I did actually have a routine. And it may not have been rocket science, but there was definitely math involved. (I have three kids, I drop one off at school, now I have two kids. I have to pick up my child at school exactly seven hours after I drop her off.) These are simple concepts but I have realized while I have been laid up, that what I was accomplishing by myself, now requires my mother, my husband and occasionally a neighbor or two.

In the last few days, I have learned that Emma, my 3-year old, cannot only put on her own shoes and socks, but she can also put my socks on as well. I’ve learned my husband can blow dry my hair and pull the curl out almost as well as Amy, my hair stylist. Aubrey, my 5-year-old, can put up all her laundry on her own and my mother is slowly but surely learning her way around the kitchen again. (Or she may possibly have feigned ignorance for the last 13 years, an act I plan on following as soon as my own kids leave home.)

I’ve learned that although I’m far from perfect, I’m a good mother.

My family needs me and I need them just as much. We’re a team and I’m proud of that.

(Robin O’Bryant is a Mount Pleasant resident and mother of three. Read her blog online at www.robinschicks.com or e-mail her, zebandrobin@hotmail.com)