Tuesday, December 9, 2008
When They Don't Even Have To Say, "Mama, I Don't Feel Good"
On Saturday, Ross played hockey without his usual flair. Another parent commented that he looked sick but I shrugged it off as Ross just being in a funk. Sunday dawned after we did. Chris got Ross out of bed for the early game, stuffed a little breakfast into him and was headed for the car when Ross said he had a headache. I suggested some Tylenol, which was taken, and off they went. Ross delivered another game that was off his usual playing style and sank into the couch when he got home, still in a funk.
Several hours later, I noticed that Ross was still on the couch, in pretty much the same position, without the TV on. We were blithely cleaning around him (it was reclaim the house from construction weekend) and he was just lolling there. I pointed out at least three times that it would have been nice to have his help but was too busy myself to urge him through tasks, so took the easier option and merely complained a bit.
At 1pm, Chris started cleaning the pumpkin we bought but never carved. He got it chunked and spread in the oven (seeds too, yum) and then, at 2pm, he took Lars to a birthday party. Ross was still on the couch.
Around 2:30pm, I took a break from reclaiming the dining room to deal with scraping and pureeing the pumpkin. At 4pm, Chris and Lars returned from the party. I was alternately cursing the huge pumpkin and our ancient food processor. Ross was still on the couch.
Chris was shocked that Ross was still on the couch. He seemed to think we should DO something, so the next time Ross woke up, I coaxed him into pajamas and left him on the couch. Why fight it?
Lars and Chris had eaten pizza at the party and Ross wasn't making any indications that he was hungry for dinner, so I made a little pumpkin soup for myself (Chris had some, too - it was good!) and had it with some cranberry goat cheese and crackers. Somewhere in the middle of my meal, Ross started puking. I glanced at the clock: 7pm. Well, I thought, there goes school tomorrow. At least I got the dining room back...
Several hours later, I noticed that Ross was still on the couch, in pretty much the same position, without the TV on. We were blithely cleaning around him (it was reclaim the house from construction weekend) and he was just lolling there. I pointed out at least three times that it would have been nice to have his help but was too busy myself to urge him through tasks, so took the easier option and merely complained a bit.
At 1pm, Chris started cleaning the pumpkin we bought but never carved. He got it chunked and spread in the oven (seeds too, yum) and then, at 2pm, he took Lars to a birthday party. Ross was still on the couch.
Around 2:30pm, I took a break from reclaiming the dining room to deal with scraping and pureeing the pumpkin. At 4pm, Chris and Lars returned from the party. I was alternately cursing the huge pumpkin and our ancient food processor. Ross was still on the couch.
Chris was shocked that Ross was still on the couch. He seemed to think we should DO something, so the next time Ross woke up, I coaxed him into pajamas and left him on the couch. Why fight it?
Lars and Chris had eaten pizza at the party and Ross wasn't making any indications that he was hungry for dinner, so I made a little pumpkin soup for myself (Chris had some, too - it was good!) and had it with some cranberry goat cheese and crackers. Somewhere in the middle of my meal, Ross started puking. I glanced at the clock: 7pm. Well, I thought, there goes school tomorrow. At least I got the dining room back...
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3 comments:
Poor dear. Hope he's feeling better now.
He's going to school tomorrow if I have to pour him onto the bus! If he misses three days in a row, our school nurse will bar him from the building until he has a doctor's note saying he's ok to return. Since the doctor looks at me like I'm a nutjob for bringing in a perfectly healthy kid and the school refuses to reimburse the copay, I've learned to send them in on Day 3, regardless of condition. If they hit the building at all, I get another two days on the clock.
Oh, but P.S.: Ross is now fine. He was bouncing around the house normally until I mentioned that he had make-up work to do (his brother brought it home) ...then he had a sudden relapse. He suffered through about 75% of his assignments, then cried, "I'm so tired! It must be my bedtime!" So, I let him go up to bed and since he was trying to get out of doing more homework, he didn't pull any games about staying in bed, either. Hmmmm...I wonder if I could get his teacher to send decoy assignments I could whip out at bedtime?
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