Ugh! The fevers have about broken, but they have left, in their wake, two whining, sniveling, clinging snot-balls who bear little resemblance to my usually self-sufficient children.
They’re going to have to stay home again tomorrow, and me with them.
And the danger here isn’t that my ass is going to grow to epic proportions from serving as a sort of moveable recliner for the two phlegm-wads, (although, truthfully, there is a danger of that!) or even that I’ll throttle the next person who whines ‘no no no no mama…want mama… while pawing me with sticky, germ-infested fingers (because they’re just so sad…it’d be like drop-kicking a sick fish!) The danger isn’t that they’d rather stab me in the eyes with my own dpns before giving me time to knit or that the clutter that’s accruing in the house is going to topple and drown us all in mountain height crap or that Ladybug will angst herself to a mucus puddle in heart-covered sweats. No, no, although all those things are possible, those things aren’t my biggest fears in this situation.
My biggest fear is that I don’t want to go back.
I’ve been pretty conscientious about sending my colleagues lesson plans (movie lesson plans with a paper at the end, but lesson plans) to put on my desk. I even asked the last sub to call me–Hah!–so I could assess the hurricane class damage that the little bastards have imparted on my room as I’ve been gone. I’ve made noises about missing the autonomy of things like visiting the bathroom on a bell schedule and taking student’s hands and walking them through a paper about the American Romantic hero that you practically write yourself, but the fact is…
I could get used to this. No, not the psychotically attached snot-wadded-mucus-balls, but I could get used to being at home. The floor, while not clean, is cleaner than it’s been in a month. I’ve read stories, I’ve sang songs, and I just finished playing light sabers with a little kid who’s gonna have homework in less than a year.
I could get used to being at home with them. I always knew it was possible. I even wished, sometimes, that it was real. But after this week in February, I think I’m finally grown-up enough to be a housewife and stay-at-home-mom.
Too bad it’s not an option I have anymore. *sigh* Gotta go now…mucus-melt down in room two…
