The Sick Day

On more than one occasion, as of late, I’ve witnessed mother’s stating complaints on behalf of their children about missing school.  After a longer-than-usual Christmas Vacation this year due to snow and colder temps than we’ve had here in Ohio in 20-some years, seems there were a lot of kids that were ready to go back to school.

My five-year-old was not one of them.

A full week after school was supposed to resume, she stood next to me while waiting to be dropped off at the school door stating,

“I don’t want to go.”

To be honest, I didn’t want her to go, either.  Having not adjusted to her being gone at kindergarten all day…well…at all…it was completely and totally awesome to have her home all day every day again.  I celebrated right along with her as each “snow day” was announced.

It was her dream come true.  She’d come wandering into my room, clearly ready to state every excuse her imagination could muster up, in order to squeak one more day out of Christmas Vacation.  With all that warming up she did to fire excuses as to why she couldn’t go to school…she jinxed herself.  2:30 am Sunday morning, she wandered into my room, feeling like she’d just been out in the sun all day without sunscreen.  Burning up.  With the fever returning after each does of Tylenol or ib profen wore off, it was pretty clear she’d be missing school Monday.  Two days.  She had been back to school for two days.

So, sick kid on the weekend means Monday morning overdrive for mom.  The easy part is re-arranging the Monday morning car pool, because my friends are awesome.  Monday morning itself, takes dialing the pediatricians number before they even begin to answer…and being prepared to rapidly speed-dial the number until…gloriously…the busy signal disappears in place of being on hold.  On the phone with doctor and scheduled for the first appoint by 8:15 am…Sweet victory!  To the doctor, where my daughter of course registers no fever.  To the pharmacy to pick up meds, where my sick daughter wants skip happily down the aisles of Target to shop around for toys on sale.  Swing back around to town to pick little Lo up from pre-school, and land back home.

IMG_7213
At our amazing pediatricians office…sporting a bright bow in her hair…love her.
“Mom!  Can I watch Barbie movies all day??!?!?!?!” my sick patient excitedly declared.

Deep breath.

“Brianne, what do you think a sick day is?” I asked.

That question was signal enough to her that she wasn’t going to be able to watch Barbie movies all day long.

“Go to bed.” I said.

“O…….K…….” she grumbled, disappointed.

Horrible patient.  Will not sleep when she’s sick.  The medicine will kick in to relieve her, and she’ll bust into a furry of activity, only to have the medicine where off and leave her feeling “barfy” again.  Finally, I got her to sleep the afternoon away (after a lot of threatening and over-exlplaining…come to think of it…I may have just bored her to sleep…hmmm…)  She woke up for dinner back to normal, and I sent her off to bed a few hours later.

Not quite the “sick day” she was expecting, I don’t think.  Like I always say, “make them too comfortable and they’ll never leave.”

As much as I enjoyed having Brianne home over Christmas Vacation, the over-productive person in me just can’t relax and let her blow off a day of school unless there’s a valid excuse.  Sick= sleeping in bed all day, not gallivanting around town and all over the house as if it’s snow day number 45 this winter.  I’m pretty sure Brianne has received the message, as well.

4:30 am, Tuesday morning.

“Mom…” she states, standing next to my bed wide-eyed.  “I’m up!”

“Go-back-to-bed.” I stated.  At 4:30 am in the morning, without valid excuse to be stand there, it becomes a one-word phrase.

5:21 am.

“Mom…” she whispers, and then waits for my response.

“No.  Go-back-to-bed.” I state.

“O…..K…..” she grumbles, huffing out of the room.

7:15 am.

Everyone is awake….everyone but Brianne.

My husband comes peaking around the doorway with a grin on his face.  “She’s completely dressed for school, headband and all, sound asleep in her bed, ” he laughs.

Someone got a little stir crazy waiting for it to be time to wake up and go back to school.  Sure enough, a few moments later she came bouncing into my room with her mustache necklace pushed up against her lip, giggling away.

I love the way God teaches kids to be patient.  To appreciate getting up to go to school in the morning.  It’s certainly not a point I’m able to get across on my own.  Any parent who has to convince children to get ready and get out the door for school in the morning can undoubtably relate.  Patience is not something I feel in that last 15 minutes before we have a chance to leave for school and still make it on time.  The gradual progression of how cute and sleepy eyed…and cuddly…they are when they first wake up has occasionally transformed into complete frustration by the time they have made it to the car.

Safe to say, Christmas Vacation is over.

I can sense how hard it is for Brianne to get motivated, at times, to go to school in the morning.  As much as I sympathize with her, and truly miss her while she’s at school all day, it does snap around to bite me if I become to sympathetic to her plight.  Smiles all around, jam sessions on the way to school, even a Barbie movie at times.  Anything to cheer her up and get her pumped up to have a good day.

9 am.

Sitting down with my cup of coffee, in the quiet still of my house, I miss them already.  I have just enough time to pump myself to be able to navigate the elementary school pick up line….

Happy Sick Days!

Megs

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