Guilt like a thousand bricks is sitting on my shoulders this morning. I had to make that decision that every mother makes to send our sick kids to school. But today I'm not sure I did the right thing. B's cough is productive and moving things around in her lungs, which I know is a good thing, but she sounds like she's on death's door. There's no fever and the only other symptom is a stuffy nose. I'm starting to suspect seasonal allergies. Nevertheless I feel terrible for sending her to school. It doesn't help that today is her "busy day" with 2 hours of Brownies and swimming to follow. I'm just sitting here trying to assuage my guilt, putting faith in the fact that B knows her body better than I do and she would have asked to stay home if she was feeling really sick. I know my stomach will flop over every time the phone rings between now and 2:04. Oh! The drama!
We haven't had very many instances of B being sick in her short 7 years and this is still basically un-tread territory for me so you'll have to excuse the "rookie mom" blog today. And who knows? Maybe it's like this for every mom every time a kid gets sick. Will we never have a definitive feeling of certainty when it comes to knowing how sick they really are? Will every cough for the next 10 years bring startling thoughts of Bronchitis! Asthma! Strep! Or will I eventually get to a point of complacency where I'm barely awake, standing on the porch in a ratty bath robe, holding a cup of "Irish" coffee, watching my daughter stumble to the bus stop hacking up a lung, and yelling "Aaa! You'll be fiiine!"