Sick day

The King of Everything just didn’t look right when I picked him up from school yesterday, and the teacher told me he’d fallen asleep in class. I chalked it up to his sleep over with his grandfather, those wild and crazy boys, and we walked back to my office.

Where he promptly curled into a really uncomfortable chair and didn’t move.

By four, the fever was obvious and by five, we were piling into a taxi for the short jaunt home. He lay against me and cried softly. My plan to stop at the grocery store around the corner for supplies was rejected by the reality that this kid wasn’t walking anywhere but to bed.

He hasn’t been out of bed except for the necessities, since. My father stopped by on his way home from work with the requisite chicken noodle soup, orange juice, and Occicilicoccinum however you spell it.

I read  whole book today, and am feeling pretty exhausted and blerg, myself. I’m waiting with resigned patience to get sick, as well. All plans for the weekend are off, which included birthday cake, Chines barbeque pork, a family swim night, and skiing on Sunday. Every time the King of Everything wakes up, he starts to cry, because of all we’re going to miss this weekend.

Which is frustrating, but did lead to a revelation on my part. I’ve always known I get angry when I feel helpless or hurt. As I sat and listened to my son’s pitiful cries, complete with real tears from his feverish little eyes, I felt myself getting angry. And I checked that emotion at the door; I realized I felt angry because I was helpless to fix it, helpless and powerless to make him better and restore the exciting weekend we had planned.

I told my son I hoped he could stop crying, because it made me feel so helpless, but there’s nothing I can do to bring the weekend back. I promised him we’d go skiing, if not with our favorite single parent and sons, then with Grammy. I kissed his hot forehead and smoothed his dirty hair away from his face. “I hope you learn this faster than I did, Boo,” I whispered. “When things don’t go your way, and there’s nothing to be done about it, don’t waste energy being sad or angry about it. Let it go. There will be other days, other adventures. Right now, you’re sick, and this weekend is going to be all about being sick and getting well. I hope you’ll learn how to say, ‘Oh well, there’s always next time’ — cause it took me a long, hard time to get that.”

He cried himself back to sleep.

I hope he does better at the disappointment thing than I do.