each year, like clockwork as the kids return to school (which i'm not positive is really school but a giant, airless room where kids hold hands, cough in each others faces, and smear snot on every germ adhering surface) i wait 7-10 days for the symptoms to start.
and sure enough. they came.
september thru may we spend the weekends seeking indoor activity for the kids, we take them to children's museums, omsi (a hands on,
snot science establishment), and any enclosed plastic padded jungle gym we can find. we travel to grocery stores with antibacterial wipes to swipe the shopping carts down in hopes of eliminating just half of the microscopic vermin waiting to pounce. then, monday thru friday we juggle sick kids and work and sit at our desks waiting for the phone to ring and wonder if fever, cold, flu, pink eye, or the swine will be the culprit this time.
i love this time of year.
last week, a co-worker PISSED at another co-worker decided to park her sick face at my desk and complain in between sneezes. i mean, how ignorant to come to work infecting those around you right? popping cough drops one by one, she bitched. and today, i thanked her personally for spreading the love and with the turn of my heal left her desk with her leftover bag of hall's mentho-lyptus. in cherry flavor.
to make matters worse, ian has been showing signs of what my grandmother (who wrote a book on parenting and teaches classes on the subject) calls 'indulgent behavior' by claiming he's sick, or his stomach hurts at the drop of a hat. it is usually following a request to brush his teeth, or pick up his toys where he will flail to the ground in a fit of pain and grab his legs and cry, 'MY LEGS'.
the kid knows his mother is a)deathly afraid of 'the sick' and b)is a self admitted (mild) hypochondriac. in other words, he get's attention for this behavior in the form of me kind of flailing to the ground in a fit of 'woe is me' claiming the world may be ending and how will i juggle life and work and the sick. all, while sick. people call me dramatic.
i need to work on that.
so, we deliver him to school each day with stomach aches, headaches, and feelings of near death and hope for the best. we've talked with his teachers and received permission to do so and i've gotten pretty good at driving to work and getting through my day, all with my fingers crossed.
this morning ian stumbled into our room rubbing his eyes and in the sweetest (i'm about to melt your heart) voice said he 'hates mondays and doesn't feel good'. he then crawls into my lap, the lap i just drug out of bed after wavering for 15 minutes between snoozes on whether my cough was bad enough to call in sick and says, 'can't you just stay home with me?'
i have never wanted to indulge him so bad in my life. so, here we go. andy williams sang it's the most
miserable wonderful time of the year. we'll see about that. please feel free to disregard all posts until may unless you'd like to join in on what will surely be the diary of a crazed woman.