The School Drama

My daughter is a sensitive, emotional and dramatic child who expresses her feelings easily and surprisingly succinctly. I attribute this to my encouraging her to share what she thinks and for teaching her to believe that she has a right to be heard. But I think I made a mistake somewhere along the way.

Every day last week, as we prepared to leave the house for school, The Pie began to claim an upset stomach and didn't want to go. The first day our little power struggle ended up in her coming back home and eating a bowl of cereal. Within an hour, she said she was ready to go to school.

The next day, as she put on her shoes, she told me that she wanted to stay home and her tummy was upset. When I advised her that she still had to go to school, the tears and accusations came in torrents.

“You never believe me, Mama!”

“Mama, I really don’t feel good!”

“Why don’t you trust me?”

As I loaded her and the other kids into the car, she still claimed she was sick. When we arrived in the drop off line, she dug in her heels and cried some more. Then she saw one of her friends, and she was magically cured. Off she skipped to school with her friend.

The following day, same thing happened. As we sat in the drop off line, cars backing up with every moment that passed, she cried, screamed and protested. She didn’t want to go to school. She was going to be sick. So, I knelt before her and cupped my hands.

“Okay,” I said. “This is how much I love you. Go ahead and throw up in my hands. Be sick.”

“MAMA!” she screamed at me. “How could you do this to me?”

The teacher on drop off duty wandered over to us and was able to intercede with The Pie. She convinced her that going to class was good and that if she did get sick, the office staff would call me and I would come pick her up. With a sad little, “okay” The Pie agreed to being led to her classroom. It was on this day, that I asked her teacher if there was a problem with anyone or anything in class. Mrs. X-Box said that everything was great and The Pie is an outstanding student. My confusion deepened.

Day number 4: As if she were starring in a well-rehearsed play, she delivered her lines at precisely the same time. This time, however, were accompanied by panicked screaming and I literally had to pull her from the car during drop off. The teacher had to call the school guidance counselor out to talk The Pie down from her little ledge and convinced my daughter to enter the school. I was embarrassed and concerned but when I asked the child why she didn’t want to go, she simply responded that she was sick. I would threaten to take her to the doctor, but she loves her doctor and doesn’t mind going to the office.

On Friday, I attempted to garner enthusiasm for school by chanting that it was the last day of the week and even made a special lunch for The Pie to take. Everything was fine until we got in the car and buckled up. She began to whine and cry, saying her tummy hurt and she needed to stay home from school. The behavior made me furious, but I remained calm and spoke to her gently, explaining that Mama would get in trouble if she missed school and her friends would miss her. Just then, one of her friends walked up and offered to walk The Pie to class. She would not budge. Shortly, another friend arrived and said she would walk, too. A third friend, our next door neighbor’s daughter, walked up to the scene taking place and said, “Let’s go to class.” And The Pie said…”OK!” with a smile. And off they skipped with barely a minute to spare before final bell.

I was dumbfounded! Gobsmacked! Stunned, shocked and awed. I cannot figure out what my daughter is up to. Is it a ploy for attention? Is it a need to spend time alone with me? Could she be having trouble with a classmate?

 Further investigation is clearly required…any insight from you mamas out there? 

Family Flu Follies

It’s been a rough couple of weeks in our house. Illness overtook the three of us and we don’t much care for it. I don’t like it at all, but can handle it easier if it comes to one person at a time. This time, it swooped down on all of us at the same time.

One Thursday evening, Dad mentioned he was having trouble breathing and suggested I take him to the emergency room. I wasn’t inclined to go to that extreme until I saw that he was coughing up blood. So, I got him dressed, put The Pie in her pajamas and loaded them both in the car. I dropped The Pie at a neighbor’s house and headed to the hospital. Medical staff ministered to Dad, took vitals and blood, asked questions and eventually administered a breathing treatment. After a couple of hours of waiting, I was advised that Dad had bronchitis and yet another urinary tract infection and I could take him home. They didn’t even give him a Tylenol to take down his fever until I asked for it. That was $19 well spent, I think. Mere moments after I got Dad home and settled – around 1:30 a.m., my phone rang.

My neighbor called to tell me that The Pie was vomiting all over her house, was running a fever and wanted to come home. So, I walked over and picked up The Pie, carrying her hot, sweaty, stinky body close to mine. I cleaned and dressed her, gave her some Motrin, and put her in her bed amid her numerous stuffed animals.  Then I fell into my own bed…at about 3:00 a.m.

Four hours later, I checked The Pie’s temperature and it was still up, so I called the school, checked on Dad and went back to bed. The weekend was pretty much a blur because I spent it cleaning up bodily messes of one kind or another. The Pie missed three more days of school with the flu and I began to feel more and more sluggish, my throat scratchy and my head aching.

I was slated to host a baby shower for my next-door neighbor and I wanted it to be perfect (it was). When I awoke that morning, I felt as though every fiber of my being was protesting. I could barely keep my eyes open and it was a major effort to move. But I had to push through it to keep my commitment, so I managed through the shower and when it was over, I crashed. Hard.

I sent The Pie back next door and slept through Saturday night and all day Sunday. My wonderful friend, Stephanie, who happens to hold a medical degree, called in some Tamiflu for me and I got some egg drop soup, of which I only ate about 4 bites. On the third day, I felt better, but I am still dealing with a scratchy throat and a cough. At least I don’t feel like I got run over by a train! Did I mention that during this whole time, I was still responsible for taking care of other kids and getting them back and forth to school? Yeah, that, too. I hope that this little brush with the flu is the only illness I have to deal with this winter.

But I worry that the way The Pie plays with her friends like a litter of puppies, it may just get passed back and forth until it mutates into a giant monster flu that takes over our house and eats all the jello cups and drinks all the orange juice and plays punk music too loud on the stereo. Uh oh, I think I have a fever…