bad, bad Mommy

When I was little my mom let me fake sick sometimes to get out of school. I like that about her. Everyone needs a day off now and again, and she didn't let me do it much. No, just every once in a while. I do remember this one time when I had totally not even started on a project. I was in 4th grade, and the class had been divided into pairs. I had been given a partner, and we were supposed to have gotten together to give a report on Florida. We had weeks, I'm sure, to work on it, and my partner and I never did. The day came for us to present our projects, and I wasn't sure what to do, so I faked sick that day. Once everyone else was safely off to school, I came clean with my mom. I'm reading a parenting book right now. It tells me that what my mother should have done was take me straight up to that school and let me get my big fat goose egg for once, and then I would have learned from the consequences of my inaction. However, this book was not published until 1990, and my mom was a sucker from time to time. (Thanks, Mom!) Instead, here's what my mom did: she drove me all the way to the Alabama/Florida border. That day a visitor's center was good for more than a bathroom break. It saved my 4th grade gpa. We gathered every map and brochure we could find and went home to put it all into a wicked good presentation on our fine neighboring state. (Wonder what she'd have done if my report had been on Michigan or something!) She even let me have a few sand dollars we'd found at the beach on a separate trip to jazz it up some. The next day I felt whole again and went off to give my splendid report. I wonder what my partner was thinking. Come to think of it, how come I had to do all the work?! Whatever.
I've told you this story for a reason. I'm sure we've all had moments when we think, "I am not going to be my mother when I grow up!" Well, today I got my chance to prove it, and I feel so bad!
Last night Kylie decided that she was making Valentines for all her classmates. She got 10 done before she went to bed, and she desperately wanted to finish and take them to school today. I shooed her off to bed and told her there would be plenty of time after school today to finish. This morning she started working on them again once she was dressed. I had to keep telling her she didn't have the time to spare until after school. Suddenly she came down with a sore throat. She pleaded with me to stay home. I didn't give in. I told her she would have plenty of time to work on her project when she got home, but she was definitely going to school. (She may also be a little jealous because Alex is pretty sick and hasn't been going to preschool.) She told me it wasn't about the Valentines and that she really had a sore throat. I told her she could come home early if she still felt sick once she got to school.
I pulled in and told her to unbuckle. She said, "Are we there?" "Yep, we're here. Come on so you're not late." "But Mom, my throat still hurts, and you said I could come home if it still hurt at school." "Sweetie, you have to actually go to class." This kid is trying to get me on a technicality. She's only six! I want to reward her for her cunning, but I'm only impressed, not crazy. "I tell you what. After your morning snack, if you're still thinking about your throat, tell your teacher and she can send you to the nurse."
I nearly had to bodily remove her from the car. I then went home and waited for the phone to ring. She isn't one to surrender. After her morning snack time passed, I assumed I was in the clear.
At 12:30 my phone rang. School nurse says Kylie has come to her office from recess. She seems skeptical and wants to know if I think she's sick. I told her what had gone down this morning. She told me Kylie had been trying with her teacher. Her teacher said she was probably fine. So she waited till recess and convinced the teacher who was at recess to send her to the nurse.
The nurse asks if I want her sent back to class. She tells me she has no fever, no cough, and her throat does seem a little red, but she doesn't think she seems sick either. I ask her to give her something "placebo-ish" and send her on her way but to call me if she comes back in.
I hung up and felt proud that I had not caved. For a half a second. Then I felt terrible. What if she really is sick? Oh, I'm a terrible mother. I should have just let her stay home to finish her Valentines and I wouldn't be worrying about if she's really sick. I'd just be griping at her about the mess she was making and threatening to take away toys if she didn't clean it up. You just can't win with these kids.