I'm sick. Oh, nothing major -- we're not talking about a chronic disease or even something respectable like pneumonia -- just a garden-variety virus. It's enough to make me miserable and feverish but not enough to make it acceptable for me to simply opt out of my responsibilities. And frankly, it sucks.

As a single mom I had to manage whenever I became ill, and that "managing" meant continuing to care for two kids whether I felt up to it or not. The alternative was to call upon the kids' dad, and that had repercussions of its own, of course. I tried not to call him very often. When I came down with the flu last year, I was so sick I did the unprecedented: I not only called upon him to retrieve the kids on short notice, I informed him that he'd have to keep them on a school night because I simply couldn't look after them. He was surprisingly accommodating, but lo and behold a year later I was treated to a description of my "frequent dumping of the children due to illness" during a court proceeding. (I wasn't surprised. I was only surprised that he'd managed to wait an entire year before trotting out that exaggerated little gem.)

Moms aren't supposed to be sick. Ever. Apparently if we loved our kids properly, we'd be immune to germs!

You don't have to be a single mom to feel that the pressures of motherhood simply don't allow for Mom to be anything other than 100% on her game, either. Once I remarried I was gleeful with all of the differences in my life, all of the things I'd done alone for so long that I now had someone with whom to share everything. The good would be better! The bad would be more bearable! And I would have a partner in parenting, wouldn't that be just awesome? Yes, it would!

And then I got sick. And I didn't have to do everything myself, not really, because my husband is here and -- as I blogged earlier today -- he is extremely capable and solicitous. In fact, he's perfectly happy to tend to the kids and cook dinner and let me rest, and he'll even check on me and bring me tea, to boot. It should all be perfectly easy.

Except that it isn't. In addition to feeling sick, I feel guilty. And let's be perfectly clear: If he wasn't being so great and helping out so much, I'd be resentful and cranky. If my husband was like my first husband, expecting that I should carry on and take care of the kids (and let's not forget, take care of him if he was sick) regardless, I would be dragging around muttering under my breath and feeling very sorry for myself. What I have, right here, right now, is a case of a wonderful, caring spouse who truly wants to help out so that I can get better.

So why do I still feel so guilty?

The kids are fine. They're not getting the level of attention from me, the last couple of days, that they'd get if I was completely healthy, but they're fine. They're not complaining when I'm napping after school or not sitting down with them to dinner. I've been sick for two days, not two weeks, and life is more or less continuing onward with minor adjustments. And rather than just accepting the situation for what it is, and resting, and getting better, I am beating myself up for... what? Not being perfect? For leaning on my spouse? For having gotten sick?

I have plenty of failings as a mother available for guilt, should I need something to feel genuinely bad about. This knee-jerk reaction of feeling personally responsible for a health issue -- as if it means I'm not a good enough mom -- has got to go. Somehow. Right after I get some work done, and pack tomorrow's lunches, I'm gonna get on that....

I'm in good company, at least -- check out these other moms dealing with juggling family when sickness didn't get the memo that Mom is exempt:

But Why Mommy says Let's Talk About Guilt
Dress Down Moms ask Who Mommy's the Mommy?
The Journey talks about You Know You're A Mom When...
The Weiss Chronicles! explains Why I Haven't Written
Flashing Yellow Lights succumbs with Sick Day

BlogHer Contributing Editor Mir also blogs at Woulda Coulda Shoulda and Want Not.