Monday Dilemma

So after a sunny Sunday topped up with exuberant bike riding and one of his all-time favorite meals at his all-time favorite Jersey hamburger stand, Charlie woke up on Monday morning with heavy-duty sniffles, a gurgly cough, and a hot forehead. Jim had gone out to wait for the bus while I got Charlie ready and I found myself running out to tell Jim that Charlie wouldn’t be going to school today. I went back inside, where Charlie was standing up, rather wobbly, and assured him he could stay home and before you know it he was stretched out on some cushions with a sleeping bag over him, sound asleep.

Jim came back in and asked the next, very pressing question: What were we going to do about work?

It’s a perennial issue for us; it’s the perpetual dilemma of the working mom and dad. Sick child; you both have to work—and even if we had daycare, we couldn’t drop off a sick child there. And I guess at such moments, when your child (however old he is) is coughing and has a hot forehead, that good old instinct kicks in. After briefly considering bringing Charlie with me, and as soon nixing the idea, I sat down and started typing messages to my students to explain that there’d be no class; we’re up-to-date with the syllabus, and one missed class was not going to make a big difference (and we’d still have the weekly Thursday quiz…….). As I was looking over my calendar and Jim was getting ready to walk to the train, I recalled that there was something at 12noon I couldn’t miss, a lunch with my college’s President and students.

“What are you going to do?” Jim asked.

“Email,” I said. “And we’ll see.” Email to an administrative assistant; to students about the classes being cancelled; to a student with a babysitting inquiry. I could drive Charlie in at 11.15am and he’d probably be ok staying in the car—it wasn’t as cold as I thought—and he’d be right in front of my office and if I could just find my student who’d offered to babysit…… I told Jim I’d figure it out.

A sleeping boy on a Monday morning at home. Unexpectedly, everything was quiet and I found myself with a space of time to get something I really needed to get done, done. (Well, more done than I had thought I might be with it on a Monday morning.) I typed, Charlie slept, Jim called me when his train got delayed. A secretary called and we reviewed plans for the lunch and she suggested another student to watch Charlie and I typed really fast, 11am came, and I roused a groggy Charlie.

After a cold start to the morning, the sky was clear and Charlie and I got the full panoramic view of the New York city skyline as we drove in on the Pulaski Skyway. We got into Jersey City and found a small car parked right in the center of the two parking spaces in front of my office; a student told us just to park in front of a neighboring house. (Yes, Jersey City’s streets are pretty crowded.) I hastily introduced Charlie to the student who was going to watch him; he repeated her name and said “no” about getting out of the car. She smiled and—most of the college’s buildings with classrooms are up the hill and a number of student dormitories nearer the bottom, with my office in-between—a couple of her friends were hanging out by my car in a short while.

The lunch turned out very well. When I came back, I saw Charlie through the backseat window but not the student watching him. As I walked up to the car, I saw her sitting beside him in the backseat and opened the door: “He insisted I sit in here with him,” she said. She told Charlie “bye” and he said “bye” in return (and I mentioned that, uh, she wouldn’t have been able to get out because the child safety locks are fastened on the backseat doors).

I looked behind and up (it’s a one-way street going down and not wide) and another student stood in the middle of the street until we had safely backed out, Charlie requesting something to drink.

Funny how what once would have seemed a crisis—Charlie sick! no babysitter! can’t miss work! no parking space unless I drive my car between a cinder block and someone’s bumper—-just becomes part of a day.

In my case, a quiet day with Charlie. And the fact that I got to spend it with Charlie (shopping a little as the fridge was almost empty, eating, slumping in a cushion chair, sniffling, getting really really bored and suddenly longing for “school!!!”, folding laundry, trying to finish that thing that needs to get done, making chicken broth with green onions and garlic)—that made my day.

(Tuesday morning update: Still coughing; another day home for Charlie, with Jim.)