Anatomy of a Sick Day (with a 2 year-old)





Photo courtesy of National Geographic

The 5:00 a.m. wake up call was not my alarm blaring, but a 2 year-old siren through the fog... mommy, CROUP, the siren barked. Ugh. He didn't speak this to me at that point in the morning, but the seal-like sound coming from his little voice was enough to confirm.

Sick days are ridden with guilt from missing work, a little annoyance for giving up another PTO day that could have been used during the holidays and all of that work you're getting behind on at the office.

As I set my 'out-of-office' assistant for email... I gulped and wondered how wild the day would be. The drop off of the older child with sick child in tow is always an interesting dilemma. Take sick child into school while dropping off older child and risk getting others sick... um, no choice, really. It was only 2 minutes and we did not touch or breath on anyone, truly!

We made a pit stop at the pediatrician to get all fixed up and my sweet little monkey fell asleep in the car. He took a decent nap and I did things like, open up my iPad to check and REPLY to work email, without crying in the background clouding my judgement and causing me to overlook auto-text... resulting in a very inappropriate email to a superior... Nope. None of that thankfully.

I made an actual pot of my fav flavored Decaf and drank it, while it was hot. I did some laundry. I put away some dishes. I responded accurately to some more work emails. This wasn't so bad.

So that crappy croupy, start to our sinus-infection day was not going to a be a nightmare after all, but would be conquered by lots of love and affection and a little blue blankie. Row was cuddly and despite his running 'lil button nose, he was in a decent mood. I think he hugged and told me he loved me 10 times that day. My sick-day stigma was melting. I admit it, I had my guard up, ready for throw-up and snot and tantrums for no good reason other than he doesn't feel well. I was in my 'ready-to-fend-off-grouchy-stance'... and deflect and re-route and all of those home-with-sick-toddler methods. But I didn't need them. I always wonder when the sickie isn't so bad (no fever, fairly decent mood) to send them to daycare. But I am always so very glad that I keep them home. That day with extra-special attention from mommy is what speeds up that healing process, don't ya think? That and Toy Story, 12 or so times.

What I got to ENJOY, was lots of just be-ing time, Rowan and me. I got to watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Did you know that Martian Mickey talks with auto-tune? Hollywood, hmph. He's green, BTW.

I got to share grapes out of a Lightning McQueen bowl. I got to play Sponge Bob Connect 4.

And, I learned that my child is sort of a pro at Play dough. Not impressed? OK. Well. It never occurred to me to drag the Play dough out of the playroom in the basement. It was on the high shelf.

Noah grew out of it about three years ago. When Rowan asked me to play Play dough, I though - huh? We've never done that before. So I took a mommy-pass and sort of ignored the question. When he asked for the third time, I reluctantly said, okay and we went to grab it from the basement, pushing down all of my obsessive tendencies and picturing neon pink and green putty smashed into my light tan carpet... I know, I know. Relax a little, right? The kid wasn't feeling well... I get it.

And, laugh if you will, but while shaping old, practically disintegrated Play dough, I had a mommy-epiphany, that I was seeing my little baby (2 year-old toddler) doing something well, something that I didn't know he could do. Yes, it's just Play dough. (He's also a pro on the iPad, BTW). BUT, I had this pride swell up inside of me and got all teary-eyed. I thought - what a schmuck for taking this day for granted. Your baby boy likes Play dough and asked you to play with him. And you did and you had fun watching him. And he was over the moon that you sat in the little blue chair at the kid craft table for a half and hour rolling colored dough and sticking funny faces on them while periodically stopping to wipe his nose. It was a moment. As lackluster as it may seem, it touched me. Watching his little fingers make shapes and use the tools. It was really cool.

Jason burst my bubble by telling me that they probably have been playing with it in pre-school for months, you know, once they could almost guarantee that everyone in the class had grown out of the urge to eat it. Thanks, thanks a lot. I was thinking we had a Michael Angelo on our hands. But still. Row made some ultra special Play dough shapes on our special sickie day. Really. Good. Times.

I am still envious of moms who get to be with their kids for more hours of the day than I do on a more regular basis... and know that their 2 year-old is a pro at Play dough. And yet, how in the Sam
hell do you do it? Every day, all day? The hours simply evaporate. How does that happen? The day just literally happens TO you and then it's time to make dinner and then you're giving baths and starting showers after sports practice or playing outside, and what a minute? Didn't I stay home today? Exhausting...!

All in all, thank you Rowan, and all your sniffles, for giving mommy a lovely day to open her eyes and enjoy what she complains about missing while she's at work... more time with you.