Out of the Running

I am fairly certain I will be winning no "Mother of the Year" awards following recent events. Sometimes my mommy instincts fail me big time. Yesterday was one of those times.

To start at the beginning, on Saturday evening N started having the sniffles. Then on Sunday morning he woke up feeling miserable. I checked his temperature, and he had no fever, but he was very sluggish and didn't feel well. We stayed home all day, in our jammies, watching cartoons and movies on TV and just generally being lazy. My stomach started bothering me that afternoon so we were quite the pair.

Yesterday, N awoke feeling better he said. He still laid around most of the morning, but he came into the kitchen when I was making banana bread and wanted to help. He took over much of the mixing duties, and I could see that he was perkier than the day before. N grew restless as the afternoon wore on and begged me to take him to the new Indiana Jones movie. I hesitated because I thought perhaps it was too soon after him being sick, but he really wanted to go. I relented and took him to the movie. He and I both enjoyed it (I don't care what the critics say, I thought it was great) and afterwards he asked to stop at a nearby restaurant for dinner.

During dinner things took a turn for the worse. N went from cheerful and playful to drooping and sullen. By the time I could get him home I had to help him into the house because he said he felt dizzy and off balance. He sat in my lap, snuggled under a blanket, and used about a gajillion tissues blowing his nose. I felt his forehead and realized it felt hot. I soon took him upstairs, put him in my bed, and took his temperature to find it was a bit over 101.

What on earth was I thinking, dragging my son to a movie and dinner yesterday when he was in the throes of a nasty virus?

Sigh. . .

Fortunately, he seems a bit better this morning after sleeping fitfully throughout the night. I let him sleep with me in my bed so that I'd be close by if he needed me instead of at the opposite end of the house as I would have been if he'd slept in his room. His temperature is now down to just below 100 so hopefully he's on the mend. I'm staying home with him today since W is out of town. I will call the doctor's office when it opens and see if they think I should bring him in. I'm hoping he'll take a nap this afternoon so that I can too.

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Late edit:
You learn the darnedest things when you stay home from work. Since I'm home today with N I got to meet the cleaning people who come every other Tuesday to tidy up the place. What I found out from the cleaning people is that most of the people that work there refuse to clean here because of W. They were thrilled to find out he will not be here anymore when they come to clean. Apparently, he has been known to pat some of the cleaning ladies on the butt as they are bent over cleaning. Oh. My. God. I am appalled, absolutely appalled. Of course, that's just their side of the story, but what good would it have done for them to lie about it to me? Besides, it isn't the first time I've heard of people not wanting to work for W due to his behavior with them. He apparently has never had the tact gene or perhaps it was damaged long ago. Whatever the case, he is not Mr. Tactful and often offends people without understanding what he did to offend them. Leaving was the best thing he ever did for me.