This is what maternal guilt looks like.
This is what maternal guilt looks like.

Let me preface this post by pointing out that this is an early release week. I’m still not sure if that’s supposed to be hyphenated. Is there a copy editor in the house?

Anyway, it’s conference week, so all the kids at the elementary school have gotten out at 11:30, except on Wednesday, when they got out at 1:30. Got it? And also, they have Friday off. It’s a shitty week for everyone but the kids.

I rolled my eyes when Bini came into our room this morning, complaining of a stomach ache. That’s such a hard one to verify. I used it myself when I was a kid trying to get out of school. Timmy’s dad told me that his kid complains of a fever every day. So no, I did not immediately rush out of bed and cradle him in my mothering arms. In short, I thought he was faking.  I’m sure he’ll remember that someday when he’s deciding whether or not to tell me about his heroin experimentation.

He kept complaining of a stomach ache, though, and a headache. But did I express sympathy? No. I thought about how I’d agreed to watch two of my friends’ kids today, and that if Bini truly were sick, I was going to leave them in the lurch. Also, I wanted to go to the damned gym.

“Why don’t you try and go poop?” Steve suggested.

“I don’t have to go poop.” Bini whined.

“B, it’s a short day. You’ll be home in three hours,” I said. “And also, if you’re too sick to go to school, you’re too sick to have play dates.”

He looked miserable. At the time I thought it was because I’d exposed his nefarious plan. He went over to sulk on the couch. Then threw up.

Oh jeez. Now I feel like an jackass. So, after I took him to the doctor (run-of-the-mill gastroenteritis), and filled his prescription for anti-nausea meds, I bought him a small Lego set, for us to build together. And a book. OK, OK — and a movie. (In my defense, we lost his entire movie collection on an airplane flight. So we’re replenishing. Honest.)

1 comment

  1. Not bleeding out the ears – but as you say, sometimes it is hard to gage how ‘sick’ is sick. I’ll do you one further – my daughters teacher has called to say she doesn’t think she is feeling well and I have suggested that Keira suck it up until bus time. They know now not to call me unless there is vomit or a fever involved. You are not alone…guilt be gone!

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