A few weeks ago we were at the child care center in our gym. My daughter heard a baby crying and like a parrot started mimicking the cry. I told her that it was not very nice to make fun of someone for crying. I don’t think she even realized it was being mean. I asked her how she would feel if someone made fun of her for crying. She stopped parroting and said “poor, sad baby”.
Last Monday my daughter went to school sad after sending her Grandma Deb back up north after a weekend visit. Riley was sad about her leaving and she cried at school that morning. A classmate of hers made fun of her for crying. When she told me about it I reminded her of the baby at the gym and she said “I know. It was karma.”
It has been a rough week and Riley has had quite a few stomach aches. I said to my husband as I walked out the door friday morning “maybe I’ll get a call from the school nurse and get to leave work early today” with a wink. This is an ongoing joke in our house, not that the nurse will actually call, but that he will pretend to be the nurse and release me from my chains. I swear sometimes I am like a teenager skipping school. By 10:30 I had determined that I would be leaving the office at noon with a list of things to get done before Riley was dropped off by my Dad that evening. And as I was getting ready to walk out the door of my office, energized by the idea of being productive at home all afternoon and attending a meeting I had been looking forward to for a week, my phone rang. It was of course the school nurse. I had a sick child to pick up. All I could do is throw my hands up and surrender. Oh karma, I hear you.
We have spent the last few days in bed. I don’t think there is ever a more helpless feeling than when our kids are sick. It’s a time that you just have to ride out with them while they throw up down your back as you run them into the bathroom. I was reminded this weekend that I learned a lot in college out of the classroom and part of that training allowed me to remove both my clothes and my daughter’s clothes without getting vomit in our hair. Her Dad and I kept her pretty entertained during the times she wasn’t sleeping and Grandma and Grandpa have stopped by with provisions and entertainment as well. Sometimes blessings come in disguise and sometimes they show up with a giant bow and card that reads “I am a blessing!” I’ll take them anyway they come.
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