Last night before bed, Ben was hot and complained of a headache. I hoped he’d be okay by morning, but alas, he was not.
It was a long night of fever and tossing and turning and vomiting. Him, not me.
So around 3:30 AM I emailed my trail-running friends to tell them I wouldn’t be there for our morning run, because no way was I getting up at 5:30 if I could manage to get any sleep.
I got up at seven when Max got up. We decided I’d be the one to stay home with Ben. So I emailed work to let them know I would get done what I could from home today, then went out for a run before C left for work.
And since then it’s been me and Ben for a very, very pleasant day. He’s totally fine today. Of course. He asked for chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast, and he made a lovely get-well card. I thought it was for him, but he says it’s for an older kid at school, also named Ben, who was not out sick.
He decorated it and then dictated the message that he wanted me to write.
Then we read some stories together, he put on his scabbard and sword, we watched the plumber work for a little bit, and I let Ben watch two episodes of “Chuggington Station.” He never gets to watch it when Max is around because Max thinks it’s too babyish.
Then I impressed the hell out of him by playing the “Chuggington Station” theme song on the toy harmonica. I am an incredible mother.
I tried to work a little bit, but I have forgotten that it’s impossible to work with a sick four-year-old around. Or a healthy one.
Then we got the jogging stroller out of the basement and put air in the tires and cleaned it, and I cleaned the grill while he played in the neighbor’s yard.
We’re off to pick up Max from school, and I expect I won’t get a chance to get any more work done until 9 PM tonight, at which point I’ll probably collapse into bed exhausted.
It’s nice to be home with Ben today. I don’t regret going back to work, but a day like today was really a special gift.