Today is a sick day. I am home with two sick kiddos and not feeling so hot myself
(except, if you mean temperature hot, which I do, a little).
Throughout the past four and a half years I have written about so many sick days; the time that my baby had her first fever and my husband was traveling across the country; the time when my husband had such severe strep that he was shivering in bed for days; recently, when my kids and I napped together and they woke up holding hands; and the general theme is that sick days are pretty crappy.
First and foremost, sick days are bad because it means that a kid or two is sick. And a sick kid is sad! Two sick kids are even sadder. I never want my kids to feel discomfort or pain, so I feel terrible when they are ill.
And some days sick days are tough, because it means juggling schedules and rescheduling appointments and finding childcare coverage. Today I had to cancel with the jaw chiropracter, just as we are starting to make real progress. So, not ideal.
And then there is the whole “What in the world am I going to do with two kids for twelve hours while they are cooped up indoors, sneezing, coughing and/or vomiting?”
But, the thing is, my kids now figure that part out for themselves. They worked as a team, their team.
As I was cleaning up the breakfast dishes, they built a train.
My daughter was the conductor (of course) and she told me that we were going to visit my sister in “Meyork City”.
I hopped on board.
And for a few minutes it didn’t really matter that her nose was running, and it didn’t really matter that there were some dishes in the sink or crumbs on the table,
I just felt so proud of my kids.
I feel honored when they let me join their team–when I can wear their pinny–and play along.
So we still have 8 hours until bedtime, but so far this sick day isn’t so bad. Not really at all.