A Sick, Sick Day

Jonah has been home sick from school with a low-grade fever and a cold since Tuesday. Since the only things kids willingly share are germs, it didn’t take long for Asher to start running at the nose as well. So although the boys are sick, they’re not sick enough to be miserable and huddled in bed sleeping the day away. Yet they’re too cranky to be easily entertained at home, but since they’re social outcasts in their snotty state, we’re confined to the house. As a result, my nerves are totally shredded.

2 bored, sick kids + quarantine = tearful mommy who drinks in the afternoon.

Asher was up at 4 this morning and this threw off his entire schedule for the day. He couldn’t make it to his usual nap time at noon and passed out at 9 instead. Unfortunately, he slept for a brief half hour and refused to nap again the rest of the day, even though he was exhausted and beside himself with crankiness. In desperation, I turned on his beloved “Go Diego Go” to soothe him and suddenly all the power went out in my house. Asher proceeded to howl with disappointment while I got on my cell phone to the Department of Water & Power to report the outage.

I live in the canyon, so my cell reception is spotty and changes with head position. So as I’m trying to navigate a voice-operated menu, the cacophony of noise in the background with both boys crying and talking keeps screwing things up and the system keeps reverting me to the hearing-impaired option and deafening me with a shrill buzzing tone. After hanging up several times and fleeing from room to room to get a moment’s quiet, I finally get a live person on the phone and discover that a giant tree has toppled over the power lines in my neighborhood and it will be 4 hours before the power comes back on.

My house is all electric, so that means no stove or hot water, or opening the fridge. And worst of all, no dvd, TV or computer games for two very bored, sick kids. As I was processing this unwelcome news and groaning inwardly, “God, could my day get worse?” I hear Asher’s muffled cries from his room and Jonah screaming, “Mom, Asher’s locked himself in!” Crap. It just got worse.

I frantically tried to open the door, but Asher had somehow locked it from the inside. He’s a short 17-month-old who can barely reach the doorknob, how the hell did he manage it? I raced to my office to grab a paper clip and I straightened it and jammed it into the hole in the doorknob in a desperate attempt to pop the lock. No luck - the clip just wasn’t strong enough. Asher’s screams became frantic on the other side of the door as he pounded and howled. Jonah and I tried to yell reassuringly through the door to him, but he was crying to hard to listen. I forced myself to remain calm as I tried to think about how to get the door open quickly.

I tried unscrewing the doorknob or taking the door off the hinges, but the screws were so tight, I couldn’t turn them. I rummaged through a junk drawer until I finally found a very skinny screwdriver. I raced back and pushed it through the hole in the doorknob and turned hard. To my immense relief, the lock finally popped opened and Asher jumped into my arms.

I was shaking with relief and adrenaline and vowed to disable all the bedroom and bathroom door locks ASAP. I was thisclose to going outside and smashing his bedroom window open to retrieve him. Once the emotional dust settled, I remembered that since the power was out, my cordless phone wasn’t working and I had been waiting for a phone call from Jonah’s pediatrician about his persistent fever. I checked my voice mail with my coverage-challenged cell phone and retrieved a message left on my landline by my pediatrician mere minutes ago.

I immediately call the office back and of course, I just missed him because he was now in with a patient. So I leave my cell phone number this time and then call a local Italian restaurant for take out since I can’t cook anything for dinner. Of course, they’re backed up with orders and it’ll be over an hour before the food arrives. I’m starving and so are the kids, but I’m too exhausted to sift through the takeout menus for another option. I could pack the kids into the car and find a drive-thru, but then I’d have to grope around in the pitch black garage, hoping to find the lever that will disable the automatic garage door so I can manually open it.

As soon as I hung up, of course the power returned. But I was too relieved at this point to be annoyed. As soon as Asher saw the lights back on he made a beeline for the couch and threw the TiVo remote at me commanding, “More Diego!”My spirit was too broken to care and I complied like a meek domestic hausfrau. My cell phone rang and it was my pediatrician’s office asking me to hold for the doctor. Of course, my cell phone drops the long-awaited phone call right as he gets on the line. I glanced up at the clock and saw that it was after office hours already so I called back on my landline and left a message with the answering service. At this point, I was fighting back tears of frustration.

As we all sat in front of the TV and waited for the doctor to call me back, I felt like a total ding dong for being so unhinged by a series of small catastrophes. I have to admit that some days this motherhood thing really sucks ass. I love being around my kids and feel privileged to have the luxury of being home with them. Yet children never fail to remind you that you are no longer in control of your life. You may be the grownup, and technically, you may be in charge. But you’re not in control. They are. They control your heart, your soul, your actions, your mind and your every waking moment. Your life revolves around them and some days you are more acutely aware of it than others. Especially on sick days. And today was a sick…sick…day.

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