Thursday, June 19, 2008

Hand me that Mother of the Year award RIGHT FRIGGIN' NOW, please

Some of my readers have said the nicest things about my parenting, but really the truth is I just have a great kid (most of the time). As I parent, I am unbelievably inadequate in many ways. To give a few examples: I have a mercurial temper, I swear like a sailor, I do not have a universal love of children (I like many of them once I get to know them, but as a group? Eh.), I hate going to the park, and I refuse to sign up my daughter for soccer (the season conflicts with my our skiing. Plus, those soccer games? Booo-ring.

But yesterday I really pulled it out. I almost died for my kid. Here's what happened.

I woke up feeling just dandy (per usual) but by midmorning decided I was feeling very undandy and went home to climb into bed. I had some kind of stomach bug. I broke our family ban on soda by consuming a glass of ginger ale (hid away for circumstances such as this), which I promptly barfed up. Sorry if that's too much information, but we're talking about illness here. Anywhoo, I was "enjoying" an afternoon of lying in bed repeating the cycle of read, sleep, barf, repeat when I realized I had told Sophie I would pick her up at summer camp early to take her to her violin lesson. The second to last lesson before her recital, so an important one (recall that I whore her out to the SF Opera so I can see free opera, so I've become a bit of a stage mom). Plus I had told her to be ready to go early, and unlike me, she never forgets anything, so she would be waiting and worry if I did not show.

So I peeled myself out of bed and staggered to the car— armed with a handful of plastic produce bags. The cycle was now drive, pull over, barf into bag, recline in seat for a minute, repeat. I pulled up to the camp office and had to spend 15 minutes negotiating the track-down of my kid. (She's up at swimming! No—she's over at soccer now!) "Fine," I told them, "I am sick and absolutely cannot get out of this car. I need some assistance here. You need to send someone to get her down here." I could tell by the looks on their faces they were scared. For all they knew I could be going through heroin withdrawal.

I finally got Sophie in the car and drove her to her lesson. Usually I sit right beside her so I can help micromanage her lesson (really, it's so I can ride her ass when she practices at home), but I sent her in by herself and pulled the car around to a shady spot so I could barf in peace. After the longest two hours in history, I got home and crawled back in bed, with the feeling that for once I had really nailed the mom thing. For once.

Sophie got me all set up in bed: water with a bendy straw, a bell to ring for service, and a thermometer. My 101 degree fever broke later that night, and by morning my stomach was mostly settled. Thanks goodness because I am absolutely convinced that Husband could not get Sophie's backpack and lunch adequately packed for camp. She could probably do it herself in a pinch, but him? No way. Although he did make chicken soup from scratch for dinner last night. Or so he says. I'll give my verdict when I taste it tonight. At any rate, Sophie proclaimed it "delicious!" Did I mention that he served it at 9:00 at night? I had to ring my bell furiously to admonish Sophie to hurry up, eat, and get to bed—immediately (probably her first five-syllable word).

I'm back at work but still a little queasy. The food post I have on deck will remain there until I'm feeling a little better. Preview: chicken marinade for dummies and white bean salad that is so good you won't care if it gives you gas.

10 comments:

kristenspina said...

Oh my god!!! Feel better soon.

A. said...

Sounds like a day you won't soon forget...

Hope you're feeling better!

lisagh said...

You are a trooper! I like that you had the foresight to bring the bags with you.

I used to stock pile them in my room when I was in high school and would party too much. I could yak in my room and throw the bags out in the a.m. and my mom would be none the wiser (ha!)

The Wife said...

Oh no! The drive-and-barf! That's the worst. You are a total trooper though. I hope you enjoy that opera! Feel better.

Kate said...

Ugh! Glad you are feeling better!!

jilly said...

Ohhhh, I am glad you are starting to feel like yourself again, that does not sound like fun, but once again, it sounds like Sophie had it all under control!

Belle in Bloom said...

Yes, you do deserve the Mother of the Year award! I do NOT drive and barf. I'm such a sissy when it comes to throwing up. Poor Sophie would have missed that lesson had she been mine. What a great mommy you are!

SBCVandy said...

Oh no! I hope you're doing better today! I don't think I could have soldiered though like that. I am a complete baby when it comes to tummy bugs.

MMM said...

Yes, you win. I've had a stomach thing too--so I feel your pain--but I don't have a little one to deal with --just a dog to walk so you win. Feel better soon.

Tres Poshe Preppy said...

You poor thing, you definitely deserve an award. Hope you are feeling better!

I will get the Beano ready! ;)