Sick Mom

I am sitting at work right now feeling more than a little guilty. Poor Ruanita is at home sick this morning. She was fine yesterday when we came home from the hotel. However, by last night, she had severe indigestion, which then morphed into a pounding headache and vomiting. She went to bed early last night, absolutely miserable. Unfortunately, she didn't wake up much better this morning. She's no longer vomiting, but she still has the severe headache and the painful indigestion. I blame the hotel room service. We decided to stay in our pajamas and silk robes and order room service for dinner rather than going out to dinner Saturday night. For such a swanky hotel, their room service dinner was really just not good. I didn't eat much of anything because the food was just kind of bland and tasteless. Ruanita, being the epitome of practicality, insisted on finishing her dinner simply because we had paid for it...so by God, she was eating it! I think that was her fatal error. I believe that dinner was the cause of her gastrointestinal issues last night and this morning.

After asking her several times this morning if she needed me to stay home from work today...and secretly hoping she would say no because I had just missed work on Thursday when the tree fell in our yard...I headed off to work, feeling a bit guilty for leaving her at home with the kids. I begged Ruanita to let the kids watch movies and/or play the Wii all day so she could lay on the couch and rest. Knowing my kids though, that will be a near impossibility. My children do not have a sympathetic bone in their skinny little bodies. A sick mom means absolutely nothing to them. They are cold-hearted to the core. Here is how I imagine Ruanita's day will go down:

Lucas will fight getting up and getting dressed for school. Ruanita will have to threaten him with bodily harm to get him dressed and out the door. Sophie and Nicky will be slower than Christmas. Nicholas will refuse to wear whatever Ruanita gets out to put on him while Sophie screams relentlessly because she does not want to take off her pull-up and put on her big-girl underwear...though her pull-up is so full of pee that it is hanging down to her knees. The child never pees in her underwear, but a pull-up at night seems to be an invitation for an all-out urine fest. Lucas will inevitably forget something he needs for school today and will blame Ruanita for his poor organizational skills. She will finally, after much wrangling, drop Lucas off at school and watch him trot sulkily into the building. At least she will have one less child for the day. However, the two remaining ones are the "problem children." I suspect when they get home, Sophie will re-assume her position of power in the living room chair, covered up with a blankie, loudly barking demands. More juice! Move Nicky--I can't see the TV! I'm hungry! I'm cold! Get me some socks! I don't like this cereal! Molly (the cat) is touching me with her tail! On and on. Princess Sophie the dictator reigning over her subjects. Nicky will happily play the Wii all morning. However, he will stop at least ten times to retire to the corner of the living room to try pooping in his pull-up. We seem to be in the midst of a pooping regression. He is suddenly incapable of pooping on the potty anymore and has resumed doing his "business"in his favorite corner of the living room....crouched down, hiding. After each failed attempt (my poor constipated little man), he will come to Ruanita and ask "Will you check and see if I pooped?" More than likely, it will be a no go. However, if and when he does poop, he will ask Ruanita to describe it to him. Is it a big poopy or a little poopy? I am sure giving a poop play-by-play will work wonders for Ruanita's nausea. And heaven forbid Ruanita ever tell Nicholas that it is time to turn off the Wii. She will have a melt-down of epic proportions to deal with. Poor Ruanita.

Maybe I can convince her to stay home from work today and rest. Probably not though, knowing her. Then again, perhaps work would be a bit of a sanctuary for her today. At work, there will by no tantrums to quell. No demanding princesses to satisfy. No sulking first graders blaming her for all the ills of the world. No pee or poop to contend with. At least I hope not....