Monday, October 26, 2009

Day 22

I just got the call to go up to school and pick up my daughter from sick bay. Apparently she wasn’t feeling well. I take these calls with a grain of salt because in years gone by Tahlia has spent a lot of time in sick bay. Sometimes its because of a headache. Other times it’s a sore ankle or wrist. One time she did actually break her wrist … that was her very first visit to sick bay in week 2 of kindergarten. Another time she had a bad pain so I took her home and she farted and felt fine. There are times though that she is just sick of being at school. So I didn’t race to the school in a panic. In fact, I did my hair, put on some make up, hung out a load of washing and finished my cuppa.

I am the world’s worst mother! When I got there she was heaving violently into one of those hospital strength disposable sick bags. It was full! Oh my …. And so I tried to do the right thing by the school staff and dispose of the bag myself but one whiff and I was heaving up right next to her. Geez. I tried to twirl the bag to the closed position but with every twirl I heaved some more and in the end the front office lady had to come and dispose of it for me. It wasn’t even her child and she was immune to the stench. And here am I unable to clean up my own child’s sick instead threatening to follow suit.

What makes some people have stomach’s of cast iron while others yak at the slightest odour. When my kids were babies I could clean up every bit of muck that hurled from their orifices, but now I can hardly scrub the toilets in my own home. Why is it that I delighted in changing nappies but just a few years down the track and their bodily functions are becoming quite offensive? Does that mean my mothering abilities are diminishing? I always knew I had a sensitive gut. I have never EVER been able to handle dog poo. We have a Labrador and I tried to do poo patrol in the back yard once and as I piled the poop into the bucket, I promptly vomited on top of it all and declared never to do poo patrol again. This is of great amusement to anyone who knows me because when it comes to walking the dog if he decides to lay a squiggly during our outing I am seriously torn between doing my civic duty and taking care of my health. I usually do the right thing by bagging the poo but I end up leaving my own regurgitated gift in its place. I used to laugh at my husband when he changed a dirty nappy with the neck of his t-shirt positioned up over his nose and his head half turned viewing his progress through the corner of one eye. I would laugh and admonish him for princess like behaviour. And look at me now! My baby girl is lying in bed hurling into a bucket and I have a t-towel wrapped around my face as I enter her room.

Who’s the princess now?

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