JP Shawhappy hump day: a MOTHERS duty
For those of you who don't know, Wednesday is (YES) hump day, but it's also my day of worry. The day in the middle of the week where all the crap at the beginning of the week begins to take it's toll, break me apart, wear me down, and eventually prepare me for the long needed rest of the upcoming weekend.
Well today I had lots to worry about. Today was a bad day.
My son is sick. Yes just a cold. He ventured home from school this afternoon and I knew the moment he stepped through the door and I saw the dark circles, the worn drawn face, the tears in his eyes that instantly something was wrong. Well--that and the fact he asked if he go to bed because he had a headache, something he never does. Usually he wants to play. So up to bed I sent him and thus my night of worries began.
It's never easy when your children are sick. Me--I always take my worries to an irrational level of fear and psychosis. His headache is something more--like a tumor. His fever is going to cause him to stroke. His cough is a sign of his being around my ugly nicotine habit and now I'm going to burn in hell for causing my child to fall ill with death. I know it may sound silly but in my own dreams I pray desperately for eighty years of straight health for my sweet angels. Not a day of pain. Not a day of struggle. So when my babies (JJ is almost 9) but still my baby gets sick, something inside of me just seems to crumble.
Sitting next to him I brush his hair back, now soaked with sweat. I wait. I wait for the fever to go down. The medicine isn't working. It's only 2 in the morning so I cannot call the doctor, and going to the hospital is just a waste of time, even JJ knows that as we've spent many a night and day inside the waiting room for hours on end with his brother. All I can do is wait and hope.
Hope the hot flushes against his cheeks cool down. Hope he doesn't run to the bathroom again to pray to the porcelain God for help. Hope he doesn't cough and spit up snot and then cry because he coughed and spat up snot all over himself. Just wait and kiss him.
I kiss my kids constantly when they are sick with the strange notion if I keep kissing them, hugging them that somehow the sickness can be drawn away from them and into myself. I'm bigger. I'm stronger. I can handle any bastard of a cold that comes at me. "Come and take me now!" I challenge the bug. "But leave my precious child alone!"
A mothers duty is to worry whether it's a Wednesday or a Friday. This day is no exception for me. Either way it sucks!
