Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Last week Sadie, my 4-year-old, started with a snotty nose and a cough that got progressively worse over the weekend. She never ran fever but her cough wasn’t improving and since I was going out of town to work later in the week, I figured I might as well go ahead and take her to the doctor before she got any worse.
She slept in the car on the way to the doctor’s office and wanted to be carried inside. At 38 pounds, that’s not as easy as it used to be but she was sick so I obliged her. I hauled her into the waiting room and as soon as she woke up she begin getting excited. She could see the candy bowl through the glass and knew that she was only a few hops, skips and jumps from getting to dig through that bowl.
We were called back for her to be measured and weighed and she grinned from ear to ear the whole time. She didn’t feel good but she had my undivided attention and was relishing not having to share me. We moved to the exam room where she crawled up and down off the table forty-‘leven times before I told her I said, “Get up or get down, but stop it before you fall and get hurt.”
She climbed off the table and started opening and closing drawers, the stepstool on the bottom before finally finding the stirrups.
“Don’t touch that!” I scolded.
“What is it, Momma?” She whispered.
“You don’t want to know, just leave it alone.”
“I do want to know. What is it, Momma?” Sadie repeated.
“You don’t want to know.”
Sadie lunged into my face and got loud, “I do want to know. What is it?”
“You put your feet in them so the doctor can look at your privacy.”
Sadie’s jaw dropped up and her eyes got huge, just as the door opened and the nurse practioner walked in the room. Sadie quickly leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Momma, do not tell them what you just told me.”
I cackled and nodded. After a quick exam and a not so quick cleaning out of Sadie’s ears, (which for some reason thrilled her to no end) it was determined that she had a sinus and ear infection and a cough that was teetering towards bronchitis. We left with antibiotics and steroids.
Want to know what’s worse than having a sick child? (No, I was not going to say a sick husband.) A sick child on steroids.
I don’t like for my kids to be sick, but at least when they don’t feel good they’re quiet, still and snuggly. A sick kid on steroids totally forgets that they don’t feel well and has the energy to act like a total lunatic. Sadie spent the last week going from lying on the couch cuddling, to putting on a stuffed bra underneath one of my shirts and prancing around the house saying, “Hi! I’m Robin. I got big ole boobies. I can cook cake and eggs. I can cook everything and drive a car.” Five minutes later I’d find her passed out on the couch.
Sunday night as I tucked her in the bed she started her weekly pitch to stay home from school on Monday.
“But Momma, I’m soooo sick,” she coughed to emphasize her point.
“You’ve taken all your medicine baby, you aren’t too sick for school,” I countered.
“But Momma, my booty hurts,” she said, looking at me sideways. She was fishing for anything to get out of school.
“Really? Well maybe we need to go to the doctor tomorrow,” I finished brushing her teeth and carried her to her bed.
Without missing a beat she said, “Huh. That’s funny. My booty doesn’t hurt anymore. I guess I can go to school tomorrow.”
I know her little mind must have flashed back to those stirrups and playing with her friends, taking a nap and playing with her friends some more seemed like a better option — yeah, that’s funny, alright.
Robin O’Bryant is an author, humorist and s- speaker. Her latest book is “Ketchup is a Vegetable and Other Lies Moms Tell Themselves.” Connect with her on Facebook and Twitter and visit her blog: www.robinschicks.com.