I have just returned from an unexpected errand. While trotting along happily on the treadmill, rocking it out to Christina Aguilera's "Keeps Gettin' Better" (Yuck it up. Her music is so fun to run to and I knew there was a reason, back in the day, that I liked her better than the other two blond, teen sensations, Britney and Jessica. Look at her now, happily married with a child while the other two lock themselves in bathrooms with their kids and troll the bar at Chateau Marmont looking for someone to tell her "it's tuna") when the phone rings. It's the nurse at my oldest's school telling me my kid is in the office for the second time today complain of stomach pain, although with no fever or puking.
Now, #1 isn't really a comlpainer, nor does she challenge authority willy-nilly, so I'm pretty sure she's sick, and offer to come get her when the nurse asks me what I want to do. Now I have to pull #2 out of her rest, ask the neighbor to listen for Little Man on the monitor since he's out like a light, change my sweaty-ass clothes and run down to the school.
I get all of this accomplished in ten minutes and pull up in front as #1 is returning from gathering her things. The smile on her face was evidence enough that I had been had. We walk into the office together and as I'm signing her out I notice a name above hers in the log - that of a friend from class. It seems she went home with a tummy ache as well. Then I get her in the van and see the huge grim she gives her sister. Now I'm pissed. We get home, I put everyone in bedrooms for more rset time and after twenty minutes am greeted with a sheepish #1 at my door telling me, "I feel better. Can I play on the computer?" Hells no.
Now we're gonna talk. I explain that when you come home early from school there is no TV, no computer, no Wii, no fun with Mommy until 2:45, the hour school would normally let out. Now while this is bullshit if my child were actually sick, and I would let them watch TV and provide much cuddling, I want to make this experience so boring that it is never repeated unless major illness strikes. Because, seriously, these kids have no idea how good they have it.
As a latchkey child of the eighties, my mother worked in a small city thirty minutes away for a major financial company, and I had to be on death's door if I was coming home. I remember clearly, getting on the phone with my mother while the nurse listened and she asked me, did I really need to come home? There was no quick run down the street to be rescued. The same was true of forgotten lunches and book reports. I tell my kids this and they look like I'm telling them my mother fed me ground rats for dinner. "She wasn't home?" Incredible!
So while I am pissed and amazed at what my children take for granted and I do have to keep reminding my daughter to leave me the hell alone because "Mommy still needs to get the work done she would normally do when you are at school", I also feel pretty good. I feel good providing a sense of safety that I did not experience as a child (no hate, Dad). I feel lucky that I am able to. Today I reinforced to my kid that she can count on me whenever she needs me. As a kid, I also remember clearly, thinking, "There's my beautiful mother, come to save me" when she finally arrived at school an hour later (my kids even take the lightening speed of said rescue for granted) and knowing I created that kind of joy for her today is really sort of awesome.
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