Your Son Just Puked at the Breakfast Table

After last week I think it's safe to say my house has been touched by each and every one of the icky illnesses that a family could endure.  Yes, that includes croup, colds, stomach bug and the ever popular hand-foot-mouth virus.  (Wait, I just realized there are a few we didn't get..how common is scarlet fever these days?).  Every illness has been viral and so there have been no antibiotics to ease the pain or quicken the pace of these damn things in my kids' bodies.  In short, much of the winter we have been in and out of the doctor's office and waiting for the discomfort, sniffles, pukes, lack of sleep and hours of whining to dissipate.

Last week I pulled into the school parking lot only to be called immediately by daycare.  John had puked all over the breakfast table.  This has never happened to me before.  I have always been able to call out of work with some advanced warning.  (Having flashbacks of a stomach bug last year that had me shuttering, convulsing and typing up sub plans at 3am).  But that day I was torn between literally reversing and grabbing my kid or stopping inside to physically talk to our wonderful secretary (in our district you have to call a service to tell them you'll be out, but it should definitely be before the first bell...I was cutting it very close). 

I chose to go in.

In all it lasted 10 minutes.  I talked to her, went to my room left a note and ran out.  Numerous students saw me and I told them the situation in passing. 

I've been feeling weird about it all week.  I had an 18 month old who was puking and I went into work to take care of my classes (my other kids).  Yes it only took 10 minutes (and the three minutes it takes me to get from work to daycare), but that was 10 13 minutes too long. 

My first priority is my kids.  That's what I always say.  That's what I feel in my heart.  But this teaching thing got me all mixed up.  I find myself being torn sometimes.  I've got kids there too.  I've also got a job that's important to me, that I like to do well. I think it makes it hard to do the right thing all the time. 


Ultimately the 10 minutes didn't matter much.  He puked once and was done.  We spent a lovely day together - taking a long walk and snuggling.  I felt guilty for not being at work, but knew in the back of my mind that this was what's "right". 

Trying hard to balance the "must-dos" with "it would be nice if I could" with the "in my dream world I'd love tos".  Right now the focus is on trying to keep my kids healthy and making it to summer (when) if the kids get sick there is no rushing around or asking my moms to cover for me while I teach 150 other kids. 

Life of a teacher mommy:  How do I take care of both the kids I birthed and the kids I inherit every year?  How do I do them both justice?  How do I sensitively explain to my school kids that Lucy and John come first (they come before the late papers they hand in and before the innovative lesson I really wanted to create)?  Yes, they even come before showing up to work (sometimes).  How do it all when John is puking and a teen girl is giving me attitude (FOR NO F*ING REASON)?

I guess I keep at it and try to stay positive.  It has gotten me this far anyways.