Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Oh the guilt...

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.


Jen said...

Please don't tell me this...

Amy said...

Oh yeah, there's that guilt, too.

I was kind of hoping you gave it to us, actually.

morganna said...

Don't feel guilty. You had no way of knowing. We just had something like this, and my son (3) got the fever the day after he had 2 physically demanding days. I think it strikes when they are tired out, not that we are making them do too much when they are sick.

Oh, and if your area is anything like mine, don't feel guilty about giving it to others, because it's going around so much you could have picked it up anywhere.

Have the T-shirt said...

When my son was two he kept telling me his tongue hurt.

"Let me see."

And he'd stick out his tongue and I'd see nothing wrong.

This went on all one entire day. When I was helping him brush his teeth that night, I noticed the four million blisters in the poor guys throat.

He didn't know how to tell me his throat hurt, but he sure was trying all day.

And yea, then I felt guilty.

Mommy guilt, there's a neverending supply of the stuff.