“Mother Guilt: Home Sick or Homesick?”

So often, as a mother, you walk a fine line between either coddling your children too much or not enough. It’s hard to know when a hug & kiss or a stern but loving response is best. I’ve been challenged with this line many times since Sophia started kindergarten.

Take last night, for instance. Yesterday evening was Open House at the Primary School. We (Chris and I) looked forward to Sophia being able to “show off” her classroom, her teacher and of course, her hard work. We realize that it is probably daunting for her to have an older sibling like Alexa, who excels in school and in social situations. Alexa generally chooses the right and makes good decisions. We don’t ever want Sophia to feel that there is a competition between them, or worse yet, decide to take the opposite path in school and in life. Thus, we make extra effort to focus on Sophia’s successes and her best efforts.

That being said, I also pride myself on raising my children using firm boundaries. I want them to have and use good manners and to be appropriate at all times. This pride has been challenged recently, most often when it’s most important to me for them to behave “perfectly”. (Occasions such as family weddings, baptisms, etc. are prime examples.) So, when Sophia or Alexa misbehave, I am torn between ignoring the bad behavior and focusing on the good or punishing the bad immediately. This brings us back to Open House.

Almost as soon as we walked into the classroom, Sophia morphed from helpful, smart and sweet five year-old into the female version of her kindergarten-nemesis, Malachai. She ran around the room, pulling toys out and leaving them on the floor, tickling her classmates inappropriately, poking noses and being an all around pain! I was mortified. When I chastised her quietly, she burst into sobs and wailed that she wanted to go home, "now!" Later, as we ate outside on the playground, she ran around without her shoes, dripped her icee juice all over and wouldn’t listen as we calmly asked her to “settle down”. We left the school with Sophia screaming loudly, tears streaming down her face because we wouldn’t take her to the swings. Parents gave us the knowing glances that I sometimes give when I see “out-of-control-kids”; it was embarrassing to be on the receiving end.

I wondered if we were being too hard on her; or not hard enough. I honestly thought a swat to her behind was in order, but didn’t choose to do it. The long school day was definitely a factor in her acting out; as a cranky kindergartner, maybe she just needed some tender loving care to snap out of it. When we arrived home I quickly changed clothes and headed to a fitness class. I came back after she was already asleep and felt remorse that I hadn’t left her with a kind word or a hug.

Which bring us to this morning. At about 5:45 am, I was awakened by Sophia, peering at me from the side of my bed. “Mama, I threw up.” I groggily reached for my cell phone and noted the time. I asked what happened. She said that she had felt sick and vomited in the toilet. I have to admit that I was very doubtful. On the heels of last night’s shenanigans, I wondered if she wasn’t faking in order to get some attention and make-up cuddling with mommy. Was she going to be staying home, sick or was she just “homesick”? The transition to all-day kindergarten has really made her miss me, she tells me that every day. I could understand her looking for a little love! I dutifully felt her head, which was warm. “Let me call daddy” I said.

I had a short discussion with Chris where he informed me that when he was leaving for work, she claimed to have thrown up then, too. He determined that she had choked on a drink of water and had spit the water out on her blanket. We agreed that she was most likely just acting sick. The problem is, I couldn’t send her to school even if she WAS faking. Sophia is the child who would tell every adult she came across, “I threw up two times this morning!” and they would be led to believe that I sent my sick baby to school and was the most neglectful mom EVER! No, I reasoned, it was better to keep her home to be on the safe side. And if she was faking, she was going to be taught a lesson.

First, I called and cancelled her scheduled after-school play date. I made the call within her earshot. Then I cancelled our fun dinner plans with some good friends. Next, I called the school. When she asked for breakfast, I didn’t play it as carefully as I would have had I really thought she was ill. Instead of dry toast, I gave her garlicky spinach scrambled eggs and buttery toast. Then, as my coup de grace, when she strolled through my room to the master bath, I stopped her. “You can’t be in my room, the baby is in here! You could make him sick, too.” “But I feel like I’m gonna throw up!” she said, with a grimace. I suggested that she go throw up in her bathroom and I warned her not to flush the toilet if she did, as I would want to examine it.

*This is where I should stop and warn the queasy reader that this story does not have a happy ending. And I should note that I am one of the queasiest. I can barely type this without gagging.*

A few minutes later she appeared in my doorway. “Mom, I threw up. I didn’t flush the toilet, but I got some on the rug. Sorry!” It was said in such an upbeat, lighthearted way that I imagined she was pulling my leg. In an exaggerated manner, I quickly ran into the hall. And ran head-on into a wall of the unmistakable scent of emesis. Poor Sophia had regurgitated garlicky spinach scrambled eggs…all the way down the hall, all over the carpet. The emesis explosion continued into the girls’ bathroom, on the floor, on any dirty clothes left on the floor, on the tub, around and on the toilet, with a tiny bit actually in the bowl.

That’s when my mommy guilt hit me in the face, hard. My poor little angel WASN’T faking. And I had not been very tender OR loving! AND my care consisted of feeding her something which very well exacerbated her already ailing tummy. Needless to say, the rest of my morning has been spent paying my penance by cleaning, cleaning again and being the cheerful servant to a remarkably upbeat Sophia.