I'm sick. Siiiiiiiiiiiiick. Ugh. I knew this was coming after the coughing, congested baby sneezed in my food and my feverish preschooler, loudly shouting a question that I had answered at least four previous times, managed to spray spit directly into my eye. It was like an expertly targeted double strike attack. I stood no chance.
Now for my dilemma. There is no preschool or other activity today. Do I drag myself into work, sicker than a dog, trying to ignore the irritated sighs from fellow coworkers and subtle (or not so subtle) accusations about bringing germs into the office?
Or do I stay at home, confined with the sick kids, passing super mutant strains of our various germs back and forth, watching helplessly while they run around crazily during that period of the day where sick kids seem to have a manic, hyper recovery?
In my experience, this recovery period usually happens as you arrive in the parking lot of the doctor's office. Suddenly, your previously limp, lethargic child leaps and bounces around with abandon. They continue their spree in the waiting room, doing laps around the toy section in an effort to touch as many germ filled surfaces as possible.
Once back in the exam room, your child spends the interminable wait for the doctor asking question after question (What is that stick? Why do they put it in your mouth? What do they want to see in there? Why do they use a wood one instead of plastic? What do you mean you don't know?!)
The doctor arrives and looks skeptical as you explain the now non-existent 105 fever, lack of appetite and general lethargy. You are clearly being perceived as a hypochondriac, over-reacting, helicopter mom, and any attempts to convince the doctor otherwise are generally thwarted by your child hopping around the exam room singing "I'm fine, I'm fiiiine, I'm FIIIIINE".
Back in the car, having paid a $20 co-pay for a lecture from the doctor and no prescription, your child limply falls asleep in the back seat. By the time you reach the driveway, you have to carry their hot, feverish body into the house. Usually this is the point at which they vomit on you.
Hmmmm. I think I'm heading into work.
Organized Working Mom