Sweet sweat

Last week as I stood in the supermarket checkout queue a strained quiet descended on the people ahead of me. Lowering the magazine I'd been browsing for free to while away the time, I looked ahead and saw a terrible sight. A young woman was crouched on the floor with her arms around a large 10 year old boy. He was having a grand mal seizure. She squatted there, so calm, so strong, cradling her son in her arms for endless minutes until his uncoordinated thrashing stilled, then she struggled him into a standing position and half-dragged, half-carried him to a nearby seat. Another woman who was standing nearby collected a trolley filled with groceries and a 7 year old girl and followed them. A couple of people spoke to the young woman and she answered briefly, her attention on the boy. It seemed to me she was feeling foolish, like you do if you fall in the street, and embarrassed by the attention.

By the time I left the store, the young mum was standing behind the boy, half-supporting him while he held onto the trolley. She was calling to an older boy who hurried to catch up. Here she was with a heavy somewhat 'out of it' boy staggering to stay upright, a little girl sitting atop a trolley-load of groceries and another child as well.

I caught up with her and asked if she needed a hand to wheel the trolley - and while I was at it, told her how much I admired her calm control - how brave she had appeared to me. She thanked me and said: "I should be used to it, he has multiple attacks, every day - though not usually in the supermarket- but you never really do ... get used to it."

No, I'm darn sure you don't - especially if you are coping with it every day and especially in that most public environment where you are also weighed down by responsibility for two other children and a trolley-load of groceries!

My award for mother of the week goes to this brave young woman.

Sometimes just being a mum with 'normal' kids seems hard - especially if they have a temporary illness or you have other work or social commitments you need to juggle. It's a tiring and often thankless job just to keep the house in order, keep them clean, get the food on the table and to try to talk to them, listen to them, check up on homework and all those everyday things that we all take for granted.

But for these mothers there are tangible rewards to offset the difficult times- things that earn them respect and praise for their efforts, that enhance their own esteem and make them proud. What mother would shy away from boasting of her child's academic or sporting achievements?

For mothers whose kids have a disability; that's a whole different ballgame. For them every day is a real struggle and they often feel there's nothing for them to boast about. It's a hard and lonely journey.

I reckon every one of them deserves a medal for persistence; for whatever calm good humour they can manage; for learning to make do and change their lives to accommodate the needs of their child. They are the unsung superheroes of the motherhood world.