If you could hear my sigh or see my eyeroll you could feel my agitation. Now, Emily is an awesome student and loves, loves, loves school, but she also loves being home with me and frequently asks me why she can’t be homeschooled. To this, I always reply that if I could get her to pick up her underwear off her floor every, single day then, maybe we could talk. Even in her 9-year-old mind she gets this point. It’s not gonna happen.
So beginning last year (another deep sigh) she started waking up with SO MUCH DRAMA that she was not feeling well and she must stay home. No symptoms, mind you, but she just wasn’t right. So she says. Now, being the good mother that I am, I do not ignore her. I listen and give the appropriate head nod, concerned look, feel her forehead, etc. and then tell her that she is going to school, she is fine, but (and this really does the trick) I think it would be best to go to bed at 7PM just to stay on the safe side. It is truly amazing how she feels better. Huh. Imagine that.
I did mention that she is a smart cookie and there was that ONE *&^% time in Kindergarden when she said she didn’t feel well and I sent her and she came home at the end of the day with a fever of 100. Crap. On the instances that she really wants to stay home, she pulls the guilt card and brings up that day when I made a mistake. I stand firm, however, and say we shall take our chances. I swear it is like being grilled by a little lawyer in Hello Kitty jammies.
So she did it again this morning and we had our usual banter. I reminded her that she kinda, like, did this last year and I am onto her so maybe she can wait until she is really sick to stay home (cause it happens, trust me.) All it took was juice, pancakes and an awesome outfit to get her back to her normal self. Thank heavens she had a good outfit day.
However, just like last year, I am going to wonder all day if she is truly OK and then give her a hug when she gets home with a surreptitious kiss of the forehead just to be sure.