A$$hole Parents

projectile

I was volunteering in Bean’s classroom today. I do this a few times a week. It’s great to get to know the other kids in her class and see what they do and the different ways they learn. While working with the groups of kids, I couldn’t help but notice that one little boy was almost falling asleep at the table. He seemed despondent and lethargic. I’m no doctor, and I do my best not to pass judgement on other parents….but after the child projectile vomited it’s kind of hard not to pass judgement. This is where asshole parents come in to play.

Bean was sneezing a lot a couple of weeks ago. It led to chest congestion and a rough night. The next morning she begged not to go to school. She had already used a sick day when she wasn’t really sick so she knew what staying home would entail: not playing outside, not rough housing, soup, and movies. I felt myself channeling my mother “If you’re too sick to go to school, you’re too sick to do anything fun”. So when she begged not to go, I switched gears into Suspicious Mommy. I felt the forehead(warm), I told her the terms(she understood) and I offered medicine(she willingly took it). Did I want to spend the day waiting hand and foot on my kid? Not really. But seeing as it was a Friday and the weekend was mere hours away, I figured she might actually be sick. As it turns out, she was. Poor thing had Bronchitis and missed out on 2 days of school and the entire weekend. While I know our home situation allows for sick days, I realize that every home is different. I also know that whether we admit it or not, we have all been the asshole parent at least once.

Bean might have been slightly congested and I may have doped her up with Children’s Claritin and sent her to preschool. At one time or another your thought process may have been or will be “they are all little petri dishes anyway, a little sniffle isn’t the end of the world” and I might be inclined to agree with you. HOWEVER……I can’t stand the parents that dose their seriously ill child and send them school, hightailing it out of sight before the meds wear off. This poor child could have easily thrown up on a fellow student….ON YOUR KID!!! It’s not his fault, he was clearly sick.  His mom may have had to work. His dad probably couldn’t take the day off. I get it. But if my kid projectile vomits on me tomorrow because of this…..well that’s just not cool.

As parents, working or stay at home, we have a routine. Certain things that we have to get done while our little cherubs are in school. But once a sneeze threatens to throw a wad of tissues into your well-oiled machine of a day and you decide to send your sniffling sweetheart to school, you have essentially created a ground zero. Kids are gross. They wipe their snot on their sleeves, they don’t cover their mouths. They not only share toys, they share germs. When the teacher gets sick because she is exposed to this kind of biochemical warfare daily, the kids suffer because they have a substitute teacher. It’s a vicious cycle that can easily be avoided.

Asshole parents, I’m talking to you. Yeah it sucks to take off work and lose money because your kid is sick. I’ve been there. I’ve stayed up with her all night and wistfully yearned for the time she goes to school so I can sleep, but she’s not going to school because that is just wrong. It’s wrong to inflict a sick child on dozens of unsuspecting people. It’s wrong to make your child endure school if they are legitimately sick. It’s wrong to pass off your parental responsibilities because you’re “so tired”. I don’t really give a shit if you are tired. I’ve been tired since the minute my kid was born. I will be tired until the day I die. That’s what happens when you decide to have kids, you sign up for a lifetime of yawning and dreaming of being able to dream. Suck it up, take some Airborne and keep that sick kiddo home. It’s not just for the classroom’s sake. It’s for all involved. Because guess what? School policy states that he has to go home now, so either way he’s ending up where he should have been to begin with….comfy in his bed, puking in a bucket.

I have friends who are teachers and they will attest to this. Sending a sick child to school, medicated or not, is just cruel. So stop being an asshole. Enjoy the time off, watch a soap opera or something. cuddle with your kid. Because it’s autumn, cold & flu season, not to mention that nasty virus every person in the world in freaking out about right now. I don’t’ even want to say the word. It feels like a dirty word 🙂

Please for the love of Dimetapp, keep your sick sweetie home. You’re not helping anyone by sending them to school.

Ebola…..there I said it. I have to go wash my hands

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Sick Days

Earlier this week I injured myself. Nothing serious, the only thing actually broken is my pride. Just slipped in a ½ inch puddle and sprained my foot. Very gracefully I might add. But the nature of my injury isn’t my point. My point is, that no matter how doting D tried to be, and how considerate Bean thought she was being, I still wasn’t able to give my foot the rest it so badly needed to properly heal. And it occurred to me that short of D & Bean being out of town while I had pneumonia, as a mom I have never gotten to properly be sick or injured. And this is where some of our Mom-Superpowers come into play. Not the lift a Pinto off of your child superpowers, but the dead-on-your-feet, brain leaking out of your nose, elephant sitting on your chest with the cough of 85 year old 2 pack a day habit and still upright and coherently making a grocery list while efficiently feeding a toddler superpower.

And that’s what Moms do. Moms everywhere. We stuff some tissues up our nose, overdose on DayQuil and keep going until the very last child is asleep. And then after we have swept through the house to assess the damage of the day, we finally slip into a blissful, medically induced coma, only to be awoken by little fingers prying open your eyes, urgently whispering about the monster in her closet because in your Vick’s haze, you forgot to do Monster Spray. So you wake your sorry ass up, blindly spray, hoping not to temporarily blind your child in the process. Then you shuffle back to the couch. Do you know why you’re on the couch? Because your husband has to work tomorrow and the lung you’re currently hacking up is keeping him awake. On the bright side at least you don’t have to listen to his snoring AND you get the T.V. to yourself 🙂

But the fun doesn’t end there. Your walking plague isn’t limited to just one day. That would be too easy. Day 2 is even more fun. Now you’re sweating like a sinner in church because your temperature has risen to a degree hot enough to cook an egg on your forehead. Along with a sizzling temperature comes a delirium the likes of which Hunter S. Thompson writes about. While you are enduring your own personal sauna, you still have children and a husband who need breakfasts, lunches packed, clothes picked out, shoes tied and normal things of that nature. After several attempts to accomplish these tasks, you manage to find socks, though not necessarily matching, but who’s going to see them anyway. You also manage to pack lunches, although the nutritional content is somewhat questionable. Let’s not even talk about the tied shoes…..that’s why Velcro was invented. Sick moms. Velcro is your lifeblood.

Sometime between the start of school and the end of school, along with your own personal inferno, your stomach decides to perform such a stunning display of intestinal pyrotechnics it would make the Imagineers in charge of the fireworks at Disney envious. And I wish it were simply one orifice that had to deal with guttural exorcism going on inside you. While this is going on, Moms somehow manage to get something resembling dinner on the table and help with the homework. At the end of yet another day of being an incubus for the Bubonic Plague, your symptoms seem to finally be subsiding. And your famliy’s universe continued, maybe with a hiccup here or there. And you did it all standing up. Any other human being would’ve succumbed to whatever bug you contracted. Which by the way, you probably got attending one preschool/kindergarten, play date, etc. Because just like you teach your kids…Sharing Is Caring. But I digress. A lesser human would’ve crawled into bed and then moved their misery to the bathroom once the volcano began erupting. My point is; Moms don’t get sick days. When you have a job, you get sick days. Even if you work in a position that you have to call out and lose money. You still get to be sick. Moms don’t. We don’t get sick days. We don’t get breaks. Sometimes the stars align and the husband can take over or a relative can help out. While recovering from my C-section I was lucky enough to have my mom come help me. She cooked. She cleaned. Hell, she even folded a mountain of laundry that I couldn’t even fathom completing. I was so happy to be able to take a nap, eat a hot meal, and not have to put away weeks’ worth of clothes. When D gets sick, I nurse him back to health. I get him medicine, make him soup, set him up with his favorite blanket and movies and pretty much pump him so full of drugs he passes out. When Bean is sick, same deal. Except when she is sick, it’s time to go to the doctor because she doesn’t get sick. So I sit in the waiting room for hours while she endures x-rays and yucky antibiotics. But when I’m sick, there’s no one to do those things for me. D has to work and as much she would love to help, Bean just isn’t able to run to Walgreens and get ramen and medicine. So I buckle down and deal with it. As does every other mom out there. So if you’re reading this and you’re not a mom, the next time you know one is sick, help her out. Watch her kid(s) for a bit. Make her some soup. Christ, let her sleep at your house. If you’re reading this as a husband, stop and appreciate what your wife does on a daily basis, especially when she is sick. I wish I could say I’m being a martyr, but sadly I’m not. If you are reading this and were not raised by a pack of wolves, thank your mother. Now. Call her and ask how she is feeling. And if she says “a little under the weather”, you get that woman some goddamn chicken noodle soup!! It’s not just good for the soul!

*On a side note: As a I finished this piece, Bean came down with a helluva cold, even causing her to miss school. She’s walking around with the Tissue-Box contraption I found on Pinterest, looking pathetic. And you know who is doing 90% of the immediate care-taking while completely minor tasks like grocery shopping and disinfecting every single thing she touches….ME! Because you can’t spell AWESOME without ME!!!

Til next time….keep those toes in the sand, even if it’s just in your imagination.

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