Posted on | November 14, 2014 | 1 Comment
I grew up with a mother who stayed at home. I think this is important to the rest of my story, but if we’re being honest I’m not sure. See, when I was sick as a kid, I got to stay home. Sometimes, “staying home” meant going to my grandmother’s house and lying on the sofa in her living room and listening to the loud click of the clock on her mantle, but most of the time it meant actually staying home. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t necessarily milk the concept… I just knew that if I didn’t feel well, odds were I had the option of staying home.
For my kid, that’s not really the case. I mean, if he’s not well, he has the option of coming to work with me, but not of staying home. (And yes, I realize how freaking fortunate I am to have an office where that’s even a possibility.) Mostly, going to the office with me sounds like torture to me, but somehow sounds awesome to my kid, so he will often beg to come to work with me instead of going to school. I like to think it’s because he misses me, but maybe he just doesn’t want to deal with school kid drama. Who knows.
Either way, this morning, J woke up coughing and sniffling and in general pretty puny. He cried because it was time to get up, cried because it was time for breakfast, cried because his pants were too big. Well, if we’re being technical, he marched into the kitchen, pulled up his shirt to show me his stomach and announced “Really mom? They come up to MY BELLY BUTTON.” He’s a bit of a fashionista, apparently. Over all, he was a disaster. A runny nosed, coughing, pitiful disaster. And when those big alligator tears rolled down his cheeks and he begged me not to make him go to school?
I honestly tried to be tough. I tried to say he was going to school and that was that and be all bad ass mom, but I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t look into those weepy little eyes and tell him he had to go to school. And I’m just not sure what that makes me. Does it make me a good mom? Or does it make me a softy? Maybe it just makes me a product of my own upbringing and my own mother who recognized that sometimes even kids need a day off.
But really? I’m thinking it makes me a total sucker.