I haven’t gotten a lot done today.
I’ve been worried about the boys.
Dude has been sick these past few days. Which is so weird to begin with because we, as in the whole family, are rarely sick.
Thank you, God.
But when it happens, I’m never quite sure what to do. Especially when it comes to the boys.
I’m embarrassed to admit this to you, but I’m not a very good nurse. In fact, it’s safe to say, I’m a downright mean nursemaid. I simply do not have patience for sick people.
That sounds so terrible, I know, but it’s absolutely true.
And this includes me, too. Whenever I get sick, I want to be left alone. Don’t talk to me, don’t look at me, just leave me be. (I did that when I was in labor with the boys. I simply drew my legs up to my chest, closed my eyes and concentrated on getting through the labor pains. I shut myself off from the world. I couldn’t tell you what was going on around me during that time period, I was so focused on my body. At least, until the epidurals kicked in 🙂 ).
I withdraw from the world and concentrate on healing myself. I don’t want any help. I don’t expect any help. And I’m (unreasonably) stubborn. Whenever I get sick, I refuse to allow it to keep me bed-ridden. I continue with life. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve gone grocery shopping with my back out and so wracked with pain, my lower body completely numb, that I’ve nearly passed out.
Or the number of times I’ve gone to work with migraines so bad my vision was literally blurred.
Or the time I worked in the cash office (I was by myself at the time) at Wal-Mart, grabbed a plastic bag, hid in a corner of the room and away from the cameras so I could throw up without being videotaped. I then double-bagged the contents, calmly walked to the restroom, looking and feeling like warm hell, before resuming my duties and finishing my shift.
(That’s why I laugh whenever I hear women use the “I’ve got cramps” [insert annoying whine here] as an excuse to get out of work. Really?! I’ve had them so bad they felt like labor pains, too. I still went to work. Suck it up, sister).
THAT is how stubborn I am when I get sick. Life goes on.
Don’t you DARE pity me, world.
So naturally, I expect my family to feel the same way. And naturally, I shouldn’t expect my family to feel that same way.
Dude and I are a lot alike. He has a lot of my personality traits and many of my physical traits. Small sinuses being one such trait. I’ve had sinus problems my entire life. Hence the crazy bad headaches I get from time-to-time. And when allergy season rolls around (it’s September for Dude, he can’t handle the ragweed), his sinuses start giving him all sorts of problems. Whenever I walk into his room to wake him up in the mornings for school and see about a hundred wads of used tissues littering his bedroom floor, I mentally brace myself.
The sinus battle has begun.
His sinuses simply close like an angry fist. He can’t breathe, he can’t sleep and he is extremely grumpy.
Poor kid.
But I made him go to school yesterday and today anyway.
Because I’m mean, remember? (I did take his temperature – no fever. If he had had a fever, I wouldn’t have made him go. I’m not ruthless).
He looked like trampled dog poo when I picked him up from school yesterday. And he went straight to bed when we got home. I left to take Jazz to get his haircut and he was awake when I got back, which surprised me, I fully expected him to sleep until dinner.
He had some soup and acted like he felt a little better.
But he still wanted to stay home from school today.
I said no.
Because I’m mean.
When Dude asked me WHY I wouldn’t allow him to stay home from school?
“Because you can’t stay home when you’re feeling like crap. Because if this were your job, instead of school, you’d be expected to go to work anyway. Because life doesn’t stop simply because you can’t breathe.”
Wait, that didn’t come out right. But you know what I mean.
Or perhaps you don’t.
I feel like an ogre making him go to school all stuffed up. And that’s the extent of his illness right now; I’ve questioned him endlessly on his symptoms. He’s not nauseous. He doesn’t have a fever. He’s not coughing. He doesn’t have a headache. He simply can’t breathe.
So, the kid uses nose spray, takes an Aleve and goes to school. Because if everyone stayed home because they didn’t feel 100%, then nothing would get done.
I’ve worked with too many people who have used the lamest excuses to get out of work. Which inevitably left more work for people like me, who showed up to work everyday and did my part. I don’t want my boys to become one of those people who use every sniffle as an excuse to stay home and avoid their duties. I’m trying to teach them a life lesson here.
But at the same time, I feel like an ogre.
I mentioned that part, right?
Sometimes, it SUCKS to be mom, you know? I want to baby my kids, but what am I teaching them by doing so? I mean, seriously, if the kid had a fever or was puking his guts out, then of course, I’d keep him home. But to allow him to stay home because of a stuffy head?
Er, I just can’t do that.
I hope Dude feels better today, because the guilt is seriously going to kill me. And Dude, if you read this someday, I didn’t take ANY pleasure out of making you go to school. In fact, I felt nauseous myself after I dropped you off. I’m sorry. I hope some day, when you have children of your own, you understand why I did some of the things I did.
I’m also worried about Jazz. For those that don’t know, he got his hair whacked off yesterday.
Trust me when I say, this is a big deal. His long hair was part of his personality. It defined him, in some ways.
But he got it chopped off for band. It was his decision. I did not make him do it. He insisted he wanted to get it done so he wouldn’t have to worry about having to stuff his hair into his band hat during performances.
But he looks different. So, SO, different. (Better, in my opinion, and oh so much older, but I’m mom, I don’t know squat).
I’m worried that his peers, that his so-called “friends”, will make fun of him.
You know how kids can be.
UPDATED: I just picked the kids up from school and Dude is feeling better. Still not 100%, but definitely better than yesterday.
Jazz said that everyone liked his hair and no one made fun of him. YAY! I think he’s really going to be thankful he made this decision when they actually compete next month. I’m sure the band director will be a little stricter on their appearance.
At any rate, the kids are fine. They are home, safe and sound and I worried about them all day for nothing.
Such is the life of a mom. 🙂
Write From Karen 