There’s a particular kind of chaos that comes with raising a family in London (I know from when we used to live there). The nursery/school run that doubles as a cardio workout. The tube journey with a buggy and a toddler/ young child who has decided, mid-escalator, that today is the day to lie down. The juggle of work, childcare and the never-ending WhatsApp pings about World Book Day costumes. And running quietly underneath all of it, the thing every mum keeps half an eye on: is everyone well?

Because someone always seems to be coming down with something, don’t they? One child sniffles, then the other, then – just as you think you’ve made it through unscathed – you wake up feeling like you’ve been hit by the number 38 bus.

I’ve come to accept that you can’t dodge every bug going in a city of nine million people, so I’ve stopped trying. What helps far more is knowing what’s normal, spotting what isn’t, and having a sense of where to turn when you need a hand. So here’s what I’ve worked out over the years, from the very little days right through to waving the big ones off into the world.

The little years: coughs, colds and 2am temperatures

If you’ve got little ones, you’ll know the drill. Coughs, colds, sore throats, the dreaded tummy bug that tears through the entire house in 48 hours, ear infections, mystery rashes, and the temperature that spikes alarmingly at 2am. It can feel relentless, especially in those first years of nursery and reception when their little immune systems are getting their first proper workout.

The good news is that most of it is completely normal and clears up on its own with rest, fluids and a lot of cuddles. A high temperature, for instance, is usually just a sign their body is doing exactly what it should, fighting off an infection. The NHS has a brilliantly clear, no-nonsense guide on how to look after a child with a high temperature and when it’s worth getting them seen. Bookmark it now while you’re calm, rather than scrabbling for it bleary-eyed at midnight.

Your local pharmacist is another unsung hero. They can advise on children’s paracetamol, ibuprofen and most minor ailments without an appointment, which is a godsend when you just need a sensible answer quickly.

But – and every mum knows this exact feeling – sometimes you simply cannot get seen. Your child is miserable, you rang the surgery the second the lines opened, and there’s nothing for a fortnight. In a city where GP appointments can feel like gold dust, that’s when it helps to know your options. A same-day private children’s GP appointment can be a lifeline when your little one is poorly and you don’t want to wait, or when you’d otherwise be heading to A&E simply because you don’t know where else to go. Sometimes all you need is twenty unhurried minutes with a doctor who can look in their ears, listen to their chest, and tell you whether it’s something or nothing.

The tween years: when the worries change

Then, almost overnight, the nature of the worrying shifts. The tummy bugs become less frequent, but in their place arrive the tween wobbles: the friendship dramas, the first flickers of anxiety about school, the sleep that gets quietly eaten by phones and group chats, the body changes that nobody quite knows how to bring up.

This stage caught me a little off guard. You spend years tending to the physical, the temperatures and the scraped knees, and suddenly so much of it is emotional. My best advice, for what it’s worth, is to keep the lines of conversation open even when you’re being answered in grunts. The car, the walk to the station, the ten minutes before lights-out: these are the moments they sometimes let something slip. And try not to fixate on screen time so completely that it becomes the only thing you ever talk about. Easier said than done in this house.

Off to uni: the art of letting go

And then comes the big one. Something my friends have experienced and my 16 year old will in a few years. The eldest packing their entire life into IKEA bags and heading off to halls – sometimes across the country, sometimes just across London, which somehow feels both easier and stranger at the same time.

Nobody warns you that one of your quiet new anxieties will be their health. Will they remember they suffer with hayfever? Will they eat a single vegetable? Will they have the faintest idea what to do when freshers’ flu inevitably floors them in week two? The child whose temperature you used to take is now meant to be managing all of this themselves.

The single most useful thing you can nudge them to do – and I mean nudge repeatedly, because they will absolutely forget – is to register with a GP near their university or new home as soon as they arrive. It’s free, it takes about fifteen minutes online, and it means they’re in the system before they need help rather than in the middle of a crisis.

The catch is that registering and actually being seen quickly are two very different things, especially in busy student areas, and especially in London, where so many young people are competing for the same overstretched appointments. For the in-between moments – the chest infection that won’t shift before a deadline, a sexual health worry they’d rather handle discreetly, the low mood that’s more than ordinary homesickness – it helps them to know that a private GP for students exists, with same-day appointments, sick notes and confidential support. Even if they never use it, there’s something reassuring for both of you in knowing the safety net is there.

A quiet word, too, on student mental health. It’s so easily waved away as “just settling in,” but the move to university, with its new city, new people and no familiar support network, is one of the biggest transitions they’ll ever go through. Remind them that asking for help is a sign of strength, not failure, and that you are always, always at the end of the phone.

Don’t forget about you, Mum

Here’s the bit we are all hopeless at: looking after ourselves. We’re magnificent at booking everyone else’s appointments and utterly useless at booking our own. The smear test you’ve rescheduled twice. The mole you keep meaning to get checked. The niggle you’ve been “keeping an eye on” since roughly 2022.

You know the oxygen-mask analogy, and it’s a cliché precisely because it’s true. A well, rested mum is the beating heart of a healthy household. If it has been years since anyone gave you the once-over rather than the children, a well woman health check is a brilliant place to start – one unhurried appointment that quietly ticks off the things we all keep meaning to sort. So whatever it is you’ve been putting off, book it. Consider this your official permission slip.

When to trust your gut – and when to call 999

If there’s one thing I’d leave you with, it’s this: you know your child better than anyone, at every single age. If something feels wrong, it is always worth getting it checked, and no good doctor will ever make you feel like you’re wasting their time.

Some things, of course, can’t wait. If your child – or anyone – is struggling to breathe, unresponsive, having a fit, or has a rash that doesn’t fade when you press a glass against it, that’s a 999 or A&E moment, not a “let’s see how they are in the morning” one.

The rest of the time? Deep breath. Cup of tea. You’ve absolutely got this – from the very first sniffle right through to the day they fly the nest.