My son had a fever. I gave him a dose of Advil and sent him to school anyway. Fingers crossed, I left for work praying that the daycare wouldn’t call me until the end of my workday. (Is this the epitome of neglect or what?)
I checked my cell phone throughout the day. No call. Then, as soon as the bell rang to signal the end of my 4th period class I got the call: “Mrs. Grant, Baby Jack Jack isn’t feeling well. He’s really whiny and sluggish. I think you may need to come pick him up.” I raised my eyebrows and said in my best acting voice, “Really? Oh no! I’ll be there in 20 minutes!”
Working Mom-1 DayCare-0
My boy was sick. His eyes were bloodshot red and he was crying. Jack Jack sat in his teacher’s chair with wet paper towels wrapped around his head and neck. She was rubbing his back and talking to him softly. I grabbed him and began to stroke his head, acting like a perfect little mother who’d not dare send her sick child to school. I think I pulled it off. They believed me! My facade of the perfect mother is still in tact.
Working Mom-2 Daycare-0
As we walked towards the front lobby of the building I held my boy tightly and continued rubbing his head. He whispered something in my ear that was incomprehensible. And just as I asked him to repeat what he said I felt hot liquid running down my shoulder, legs and feet. My boy had just vomited down the entire back of my white dress.
It was hot. It was wet. And it smelled like chicken.
I stopped mid-stride and quickly put him down. We were in the middle of the lobby. I didn’t want to move because we would have tracked the digested food through the building.
Just as a bystander parent handed me a bunch of paper towels it happened again. My son threw up on the floor, all over my shoes.
Dammit! My cute little black, wedge sandals were covered in chicken noodle soup. Sh*t! My fabulous outfit that made me look 5 lbs skinnier was ruined!
At this point I’m wondering what brand of laundry product would get the stains out of my dress and how many times I’d have to scrub my shoes to remove the smell of soup. But my son’s cries shook me out of my fantasy.
We tip-toed to the bathroom and cleaned ourselves best we could. Then, I rushed Baby Jack Jack to the doctor. The smell of vomit overwhelmed me as I sped down the highway. We made it in a flash and his pediatrician quickly gave Jack Jack nausea medication followed by a dose of Advil to relieve his 101.6 degree temperature.
An hour later, after a bath and a few sips of Gatorade, my boy was back to normal. He ran through the house jumping from couch to couch as I locked myself in the laundry room and soaked my clothes.
Baby Jack Jack- 1, Mommy- 0