Clean up time already?

It's very quiet today. Ben is home sick, lying like the dead on the couch with a high fever. Yesterday it was Zachary.

Jake asked me this morning if he was next.

I said WASH YOUR HANDS.

I must admit, I'm a tad obsessive about washing my hands in the winter. I spent two years sick as a dog when Ben first hit daycare and I learned my lesson. Of course, when they are little, it's hard to keep them from poking you in the face with their germ filled fingers.

Now, I'm just cleaning up buckets of... um... well, you know. I don't think Ben is ever going to learn to hit the bathroom until he has to clean it up himself.

I wonder if the Obama administration is going to go through the same growing pains. It seems to be the case so far. Some good choices like Clinton, some bad choices like Richardson and some weird choices like Gupta.

Some infuriating choices like Rick Warren.

The press has been pretty eager, along with many political groups, to make nice about the direction the president to be is taking.

How long will they be cleaning up, though? When will the tough questions be asked? I can promise you that as a member of the LGBT community, I'm not jumping up and down about John Berry, an openly gay man, being nominated to be the director of Office Personnel management.

It's the highest appointment ever for a gay person. Kinda sad, huh? I mean, can you name the last one? or the one before that?

Honestly, I didn't even know there was such an office.

Obama is also asking Bush to get the rest of the bailout money. That makes me very nervous. It reeks of passing the buck, not of expediency. Is he already covering his tracks?

The cleaning up of messes will only last so long. The good will of the LGBT community was severely strained with Rick Warren's invitation. While some still are clamoring to be supportive, any are not. Personally, I'm not buying John Berry as a valid token of affection.

All eyes are on this administration, waiting for great things.

I keep thinking, that like my son Ben, he's not going to figure it out until he has to clean it up himself.

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...