For anyone who has actively tried to get pregnant that two week wait before opening the testing stick can be torturous. Now that I have kids, I'm experiencing another wait that brings on a similarly anxious feeling: the 24 hour period between the end of a sickness and the child's return to school. It's a day when a child is perfectly fine and full of energy, but has to stay home to make sure the sickness has passed. It's a mix of Cabin Fever and a hostage situation: an end is near, but getting there will be arduous.
Between H1N1, the usual colds and everything else that's been going around, there's been a lot of anxiety about germs and staying healthy. I've been respectful of that, making sure to keep the kids home until they were clearly 100% healthy, but that last day of an illness, the 24-hours between the end of a fever and a return to school has just about done me in. Dealing with a sick kid is energy zapping and usually includes disrupted sleep, which means that by the time my child is feeling better, I've morphed into Miss Hannigan.
Sometimes having a child home sick is a little bit of a break. Sure, there's a lot of chicken soup and cracker deliveries, but sickness brings a lethargic calm that often allows laundry to get done, bathrooms cleaned, pantries organized. This is deceiving because it starts to make me think that having a child home with a little bug isn't bad, it's actually a rest from our routine. Check back on day three when I've nearly lost my mind and can understand why some people send their kids back to school before they're well.
Then there's the struggle over television that's only made worse by an illness. I always feel guilty about letting my kids watch TV when they're unable to get off the couch, so when the illness starts to lift, I turn it off. This only means that I'm now the full source of entertainment, but by this time, I'm burnt out.
When my son stayed home recently as we waited to see if his fever would return, desperate for fresh entertainment, I remembered a play tool in the garage. It was supposed to be returned to the store after his birthday, but never was and now the receipt is either lost or expired. I didn't care to think about why I wanted to return it in the first place. Here was a brand new toy that could be my salvation and bring me the five minutes of peace I needed to restore my sanity. My son grabbed the toy and I was quickly reminded that there was a reason we wanted to return this perfectly good toy buzz saw. It buzzes. Loudly.
At some point in the day, usually in the late afternoon, I will hide out in my bedroom, drinking the Gatorade bought for the sick child. Taking care of little sickies is more taxing than a marathon - or so I will assume until proven otherwise - and I like to save the champagne for the back to school day.