A couple of days ago, I got really sick. Terrible tummy trouble, high fever – really not good. Blitzen came home (her lovely babysitter agreed to stay late so that I could sleep and throw up in peace because Andrew had a class) and Blitzen sweetly brought me a bottle of ginger ale, asked how I was feeling, asked if I had thrown up, asked how many times, did I have a fever, etc. After carefully assessing the situation, she then got really mad at me because I had come home early from work and one time, when she threw up in the afternoon, I made her go to school the next day. Yet more evidence that I get to do whatever I want in this life and what I want most is to torture Blitzen.
The next morning, Blitzen said that she had a stomach ache. I was still sick and while I was fairly certain that Blitzen’s symptoms were not quite severe enough to miss school, I told her that she could stay home with me but that we were going to stay in bed all day because if we were sick enough to miss school and work, we were too sick to play.
Blitzen considered this carefully and then said, “Well, I really don’t feel good but I am not used to missing school, Carrie, so I should go.” Andrew and I aren’t sure if it was the threat of a boring day laying around with sick me or the thought of being out of her routine that convinced her to go but you’ll glad to hear that she was feeling fully recovered by the time they arrived at school.
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Was calm, a first. The child rose with no grumpiness, cheerfully accepted assistance with her hair and was happy with the finished product. I allowed her to wear those little church/kitten/kiddy heals she has and she brought both flipflops and sneakers as back up. Progress presents itself in the most unusual ways and on the most surprising days.
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