If it were possible to impale oneself on a tiny, plastic
sword, I would have done it sometime during hour two of
playing Lego Pirates. Normally I can take this type of torture,
but as my son and I struggled through a joint day of flu-like
conditions, I was ready for an easier way out.
While kids love the idea of being sick
and missing school, for Moms it is a bit of a lose/lose.
Unless that low-grade fever hits the day we’re supposed
to head for our in-laws for a special family dinner, it’s
hard to find a good time to be sick. Children loathe being
sick on a weekend, of course, as it seems like such a waste
when they could be getting out of early Monday morning Grade
9 Geography. But if you’re a stay at home Mom (or
work from home, like I do)…this is the BEST time to
be sick.
During the week if you’re sick,
and the kids aren’t old enough to go to school, you’re
usually stuck “managing” them from the couch
as you shuffle through all of the same duties you normally
have. If they’re older, and you’re lucky enough
to send them all merrily off to school, it’s still
hard not to feel guilty about the laundry not being done,
the dinner not being prepared, while the unreturned phone
calls and unwritten reports silently nag you, as the house
returns to its normal bomb-blast state. And when the kids
and Dad arrive on the doorstep at the end of the day, at
least one of them (usually the tall one) will wonder aloud
what the heck you’ve been doing all day, because you
seem fine now.
My advice is to do what the kids do –
and fake it when it works for you – to make up for
the days that you’re really sick and you don’t
get to BE sick. Spring it on a Saturday morning…just
before the rounds of hockey practice, dance class, grocery
shopping, birthday party attending and general chauffeuring
of children begins. Write up a list for Dad to follow (here’s
a hint – if you tell him to drop a kid at a birthday
party for two hours, it is VERY important to tell him to
also go back and pick up the same kid), tell the kids they
have to be Daddy’s helper (just like they’re
Mommy’s helpers during the week. No, say it like it
actually happens.) , and lay back and listen to the dulcet
tones of Dad saying:
- “What do you mean it’s
your turn to bring snack to hockey? What does that mean?
Can we take a box of cereal? What…and a drink? Grab
that bag of milk.”
- “Where’s the card
for this gift. You usually make one? We don’t have
time – let’s just make sure to yell out our
name when they open it up. They don’t open them
in front of everyone?”
- “Sure you can wear your
“indoor shoes”, whatever that is. You’re
going to be indoors at the indoor playground after we
get through the slushy parking lot, aren’t you?”
- “You’re hungry?
Don’t you get your own breakfast? You’re four,
right?”
- “We have to pick up who?
Do I know this kid? Is he the one who bites?”
- “Your mother promised to do pottery
painting this afternoon? Hmm…I heard that place
burned down last week.”
“What do you kids want for dinner? It’s special
night with Daddy so you get fast food. I know Mom doesn’t
allow it, but we won’t tell her.”
Let them get away with it. Find
a room with a door with a lock on it – one that can’t
be picked with a tiny plastic sword – and enjoy your
siiiick day.
Kathy Buckworth is an award winning
humour writer. Please remember this when you’re reading
this column. Against all odds, her first child is actually
attending University. Email me your thoughts Kathy@kathybuckworth.com
or follow me on Twitter www.twitter.com/kathybuckworth
I won’t be busy forcing kids to do homework or replacing
violin strings, so I’ll probably answer you.
|
