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Lamer than ever

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Posted by on April 1, 2011 at 4:18 pm

I reached another new low last week. I ignored my poor son in spite of the fact that he doesn’t really say things that aren’t true. (Why do I expect that he will?)

Wednesday morning Jake complained of a sore throat. As I am accustomed to do, I disregarded this complaint. He had no fever, he seemed fine and he was going to school. (I swear, this had nothing to do with the fact that I had reserved a bike in a 9:30am spin class. Really.) Actually, I thought he was simply hankering for attention because his little sister had gotten stitches the day before and we had poured the patient sympathy on pretty thick. I also wondered if possibly he was “ill” because his favorite friend had been absent the day before. (Foreshadowing:  I didn’t know that said favorite friend had missed school because of a nasty case of strep throat.)

So off he went to school, and the babysitter fetched him after so he could get ready for his swim lesson. Only he burst into tears when I said it was time to go to the pool. And he had fever-y eyes and had those cute red cheeks he gets when he has a fever. Though I didn’t exactly pay attention to all of this evidence that he was sick as I was too focused on making it to swim lessons on time and not paying for a lesson we didn’t actually go to. (Yes, I flush money down the toilet on fancy coffees but the thought of paying for a no-show swim lesson makes me anxious, more anxious than dragging a whiny, sick kid to the pool. My priorities certainly seem askew.)

The continued sobbing eventually clued me in that we would never make it three blocks to the pool, and the cuddling made me realize he was actually sick. So we cuddled and acetaminophen-ed and pretty soon called it a night. The next morning he still had a little fever so no school, but I wasn’t too troubled. Midday I heard from another parent that the school was full of strep and the babysitter called to tell me he seemed really not well. Damn! I got him the only doctor’s appointment left that day, at 7pm, and I left the lunch I was at to go home because somehow I would feel better if he were crying with me there. By the time he finally got to the doctor, the poor bugger’s throat looked like it had been rubbed across a cheese grater. Of course, bad case of strep and hooray for antibiotics.

In about two days he was feeling better but I still felt awful. What moron doubts her little boy? Especially about him not feeling well? He’s not old enough yet (I don’t think) to fake illness, or really, to lie about anything for more than a couple minutes. Yet, I doubted him and he was miserable for probably a day longer than necessary. Next time maybe I’ll listen harder. Though by then, he will probably have turned into the deviant I apparently expect him to be. I hear that happens around six.

 

Filed under Bad Parenting
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