Yesterday I took the kids to gymnastics as usual. Mary Grace played normally for the first hour we were there, but during her class started coming over to me and telling me that she "broke her whole body" or that she "hurt" her thumb or that she was going to throw up. She wanted to go home and watch movies. Since she had no fever, looked well, and had played normally for the first hour we were there, I told her to finish her class and then we'd go home and have lunch and watch movies. We ended up staying for open gym, because I collected four babies in buckets to watch while their moms played with older siblings. Mary Grace and Claire played with Kate. I talked to Sara. I figured that MG just wanted to watch movies, and was trying to skip out on class... Not that she was sick.
Then, of course, I told you how our evening went.
So I'm sure you can guess who woke up with a fever this morning (101). Of course she did. Of course. And now I see those requests to leave gymnastics differently. Maybe she really felt poorly and just couldn't communicate it to me. And I forced her to not only participate, but to participate in an activity that is physically demanding. It's not like it was art class, it was GYM.
Oh, the guilt.
Lots of Jello and tea and movies today, my girl. I'm sorry.