Not So Sick Sick Day
Jake is home with me today.
He was home yesterday, too. He woke up in the middle of the previous night with a high fever. Yesterday morning, it was still well over 100 and I kept him home. By midday, he was throwing up. I finally went and cuddled with him on the couch for a while (yes, a fabulous excuse to take a nap in the middle of the afternoon).
He watched a little TV. Mostly, though, he slept. As a mother, you know that quiet always means something bad. Either the priceless heirloom has been broken by all three and they are plotting to cover it up, or someone is very very sick.
By evening, he was a little better. He sat at the dinner table but didn't eat. By bedtime, his fever was almost gone.
This morning, however, started with a loud moan. He came downstairs, plopped on the couch and started to complain about a stomach ache. Terrible. Awful. No one could speak, or make any noise without hearing from him how horrible it was making him feel.
I felt his forehead and the back of his neck. Yes, a slight fever, but no more than 99.
Oooooooooh, he moaned.
I think you can go to school, I said.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH, he moaned much louder and raced to the bathroom.
Mind you, my friend calls me the Stalin of parenting. I'm strict, I have serious rules and I do not bend them. There is no pulling the wool over my eyes. The sincerity of the moaning combined with how sick he was yesterday gave me pause.
After a few more renditions of this moment, I said, I'm keeping you home today.
He went upstairs to go back to sleep.
As soon as Zachary left to walk to school, he came back downstairs, bucket in hand. He picked up a book. When I left the room, he asked Jeanine to watch a movie. Jeanine, who never stays home with the sick children, said of course.
The first sign of a not so sick sick day. Ask someone- anyone- other than Momma Sara to watch TV.
I have a rule about TV and sick children. The rule is, if you are well enough to ask for it? You are well enough to go to school. I don't want staying home to be fun. I want school to be fun. Staying home a big, giant drag.
After the movie, came the food requests. Cereal. Then hot dogs. Yes, at 10AM, he downed two hot dogs, glass of milk.
Can I still have tuna for lunch? he asked.
You all might say, take him to school for cryin' out loud. But I can't because I called the nurse to say he had a fever. There is a 24 hour policy at the school.
Tsk, tsk, my friend Martha Stewart of parenting said. You should call your child in with a stomach ache. Or over tired. Never, never say they have a fever.
In the meantime, the little stinker goes outside and picks flowers for me. Goes and gets one of his prized Coke bottles stashed in his room. Hands me this.
Stalin, indeed...
He was home yesterday, too. He woke up in the middle of the previous night with a high fever. Yesterday morning, it was still well over 100 and I kept him home. By midday, he was throwing up. I finally went and cuddled with him on the couch for a while (yes, a fabulous excuse to take a nap in the middle of the afternoon).
He watched a little TV. Mostly, though, he slept. As a mother, you know that quiet always means something bad. Either the priceless heirloom has been broken by all three and they are plotting to cover it up, or someone is very very sick.
By evening, he was a little better. He sat at the dinner table but didn't eat. By bedtime, his fever was almost gone.
This morning, however, started with a loud moan. He came downstairs, plopped on the couch and started to complain about a stomach ache. Terrible. Awful. No one could speak, or make any noise without hearing from him how horrible it was making him feel.
I felt his forehead and the back of his neck. Yes, a slight fever, but no more than 99.
Oooooooooh, he moaned.
I think you can go to school, I said.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH, he moaned much louder and raced to the bathroom.
Mind you, my friend calls me the Stalin of parenting. I'm strict, I have serious rules and I do not bend them. There is no pulling the wool over my eyes. The sincerity of the moaning combined with how sick he was yesterday gave me pause.
After a few more renditions of this moment, I said, I'm keeping you home today.
He went upstairs to go back to sleep.
As soon as Zachary left to walk to school, he came back downstairs, bucket in hand. He picked up a book. When I left the room, he asked Jeanine to watch a movie. Jeanine, who never stays home with the sick children, said of course.
The first sign of a not so sick sick day. Ask someone- anyone- other than Momma Sara to watch TV.
I have a rule about TV and sick children. The rule is, if you are well enough to ask for it? You are well enough to go to school. I don't want staying home to be fun. I want school to be fun. Staying home a big, giant drag.
After the movie, came the food requests. Cereal. Then hot dogs. Yes, at 10AM, he downed two hot dogs, glass of milk.
Can I still have tuna for lunch? he asked.
You all might say, take him to school for cryin' out loud. But I can't because I called the nurse to say he had a fever. There is a 24 hour policy at the school.
Tsk, tsk, my friend Martha Stewart of parenting said. You should call your child in with a stomach ache. Or over tired. Never, never say they have a fever.
In the meantime, the little stinker goes outside and picks flowers for me. Goes and gets one of his prized Coke bottles stashed in his room. Hands me this.
Stalin, indeed...
Labels: leg pulling, lesbian mom, sick days, sick kids
posted by Sara at 10:56 AM
4 Comments:
way to make your knees buckle there Stalin!....Id say he's got you pegged!
what a card. didn't i just see that coke bottle with roses in it on saturday at allan and walter's? maybe he is too sick to go to florida!! LOL
donald, he has a stash of about six little bottles in his room- now four.
the miracle cure continued through the day- he's in florida.
and you are home in MA. guess the sucking up worked for you!! why doesn't it ever work for me?? enjoy the game!
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