Yesterday I woke up to two notes, one from each child.
When our children are sick/want to stay home from school, they write me a note. They explain their ailment and tell me not to wake them up.
They do this because 1) they know I would be cranky if they woke me up in the middle of the night and 2) they know I'm a softie when it comes to them staying home. I take a page out of my dad's book. He used to say to me, "You'd better stay home with me. Let the other kids catch up."
Mark woke up and had some juice and looked miserable and told me he was going to go to school after lunch in time for English. Emma, on the other hand, has a talent that neither son has and I certainly don't have. The girl can sleep. She's like Rip Van Winkle.
So she slept on.
Meanwhile, Mark started dithering about going to school. He still felt sick. Maybe he should stay home all day and rest? Maybe he should go? He wondered what I thought.
I didn't know what he should do. On the one hand, I feel like Emma's drama and choir teachers. They tell the kids "not feeling well" isn't an excuse. Neither of them have "felt well" for 15 years. On the other hand, if you can't stay home and just give in to illness when you're 13, that's a sad state of affairs.
So I told Mark it was up to him. He lay there with his swollen eyes and flushed face and his verdict was stay home.
He celebrated his decision with more juice.
Emma slept on.
At 1:00 in the afternoon, I ventured in her room to check that she was still among the living. She was sleeping peacefully. I shook my head in sheer admiration of her skills and quietly closed the door behind me.
She finally emerged from her sleeping den. She felt fine. Sleep was what she needed.
The two sat down at the computer to play Minecraft together. They each had a tall glass of ice water.
Sometimes all you need is a day off.