“Mooooommmmmyyyyy! I don’t want to go to school!!!!”
“You were off two days last week for strep. You will be going to school, by golly, unless you have a fever or are puking. So get up! Come on. Let’s go!”
“I am sorry to inform you that your daughter just vomited all over herself and our floor…”
What?!??!? I just left her with you people. She was fine! She has been fine all weekend. How could she be puking?
Texting my office manager from the car at the stoplight:
I have to cancel clinic. I don’t have anyone who can watch her. I can see anyone that you cannot reach for the first hour.
I feel slightly guilty that I don’t feel guilty. I didn’t really want to work today either, I guess…
“I am sorry I am late getting in to see you Mrs. So-and-So. I had to go pick up my daughter from school.”
“Oh? What is wrong with her?”
In the background I can hear a little girl telling the office staff that she needs a bandaid. Please don’t make anyone else sick!
I close my computer. I walked in this morning to 45 documents on the EHR desktop. I have finally waded through all of that while holding a squirmy girl in my lap. Time to go home.
My daughter is drawing pictures of princesses while singing a soulful, self written medley about those princesses and their pets eating snickerdoodles at a tea party.
We finish her make-up school work. She has drunk a juice box and eaten pretzels and two applesauces. She wants to read books. Books about princesses. So we do.
We make snickerdoodles. The oven will kill any germs, right?
“Mommy, I love staying home with you!” Big slobbery kiss.
I love big kisses even if vomit came out of that mouth a few hours before.
“Me, too, sweetie, but tomorrow you WILL be going back to school.”
She scowls at me and puts a hand on her little hip. “I might have to make myself puke again…”
We both take a nap!!!!!!!!
I realize that all of the work is done. Dishes are washed. Coffee is made. Kids are in bed. The house is sort of picked up. We got through the other homework OK despite the crying and screaming gnashing of teeth. Best of all, I don’t feel numb, exhausted, and disengaged.
Maybe I could be a stay at home mom? I would be good at it. I know I would… Maybe she can puke at school again tomorrow?