P has a flair for the dramatics. it's not always easy to tell if she is just being drama or if she is really having trouble. i don't always take her seriously. part of the skepticism comes from how i was raised and the other is that she is over the top about everything.
we celebrated her 10th birthday on friday with her 3 closest friends; tay, abs, and soph. the night included a buffet of overly processed fried food, candy, soda, and ice cream. top that off with a late night of giggles and little sleep. the next night she stayed at soph's house for another late night and less than healthy smorgasbord.
upon her arrival home on sunday night she fell face first into a pile of blankets and pillows stating, "i don't feel good." my first thought was duh, you've had a weekend full of partying what do you expect? i picked her up out of the mass of linens, held her on my lap (which by the way at 10 she is getting big, but i will pull her on my lap forever) and said, "i'm sorry beauty. just lay here on the couch for a bit." i did feel her forehead, it was warmer than usual, but i didn't believe she was ill.
sometime in that hour when most people are sleeping she climbed into bed with me, "mom i still don't feel good." i have learned over the years that if i don't open my eyes i can stay somewhat asleep, so with my eyes closed i said, "okay, just go to sleep." i am really sympathetic to sick kids in the middle of the night. okay maybe i am not, but this mamma needs her sleep. it is often interrupted by my over active brain, bad dreams (mine and the kids), or a sound. you know those sounds in the middle of the night that wake you up? you freak yourself out and can't get back to sleep?? that happens to me all the time. anyway, 6:00am monday morning comes way too early when your sleep is interrupted, sleep is definitely a precious commodity.
when i was growing up my mom had some rules in order to stay home sick. one...you had to have a fever. there really wasn't any other reason we were allowed to stay home. two...you had to watch fiddler on the roof. this is my mom's all time favorite movie. my sis and i were guaranteed an afternoon with a milkman, a matchmaker, the butcher and a tailor. if you haven't seen it and enjoy musicals this is a pretty good one. third...you didn't do anything but rest. i have adopted these sames rules minus the movie. i've had my fill over the years.
so with a fever over a hundred she gets to stay home. i instruct her to make her nest on the couch and settle in for the day. i had ambitions of getting a lot accomplished with my unexpected day at home; laundry (washed, dried, folded and put away), a little baking, getting my christmas village put away, cleaning the bathrooms and straightening up a bit. let's see what did i get done? nothing, i parked my rear on the couch for a little snuggle session and never got up again. i chose instead to expand my winter butt.
the term winter butt makes me think of my life from many moons ago. when my ex husband and i were dating, we had a group of friends that consisted of two other couples. one of the couples was really into body building. during the off season (winter), when they weren't getting ripped, they ate a little dirtier, didn't spend their whole life at the gym and were in better spirits (really i'm just referring the male half of this couple, he was such a bear during competition season). anyway, he is a big man, and when not competing even bigger. we used to tease him about his off season fanny, "get your winter butt in here". makes me giggle.
after two days of a fever over a hundred and one restless night due to screaming and sobbing she went to the doctor. i guess a raging ear infection will cause such discomfort. come on i'm not a doctor, how was i supposed to know? if i raced her to the doctor every time she said, "i am so weak i can't even lift my hand." in a barely audible whisper, i might get the reputation of being a hypochondriac over bearing neurotic mother. this isn't a title i want, instead i have the title of why didn't you bring her in sooner mother?
a sick day, or two, with my daughter is heaven. to have that one on one time when she falls asleep on my lap is priceless. i miss the days when i could hold her on my chest and we rested on the couch. although she is a pathetic sick person, i secretly love that she needs me so much. as she gets older she believes she needs me less, and although i encourage independence, i still love the days she needs her mommy.
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