I have one child who awoke this morning with a fever and a horrible chesty cough. And you know what? Despite the couple of minutes that I spent sitting on the toilet willing the fever and the cough to go away so our trip to the Big City and the phenomenal zoo wouldn't have to be tossed aside, it didn't work.
I don't do fevers well. I can't see what is causing the fever, see, and that makes me not in control. So her fever warranted a call to the doctor for me.
And I told Da Man, "I can't go to Big City with you." Now usually that would have caused him to pick up the phone and cancel his appointments at the VA, my not going. I'm his security blankie. And his memory bank. But this morning all I got was an "oh."
So we're heading to the Olive Garden for lunch (don't ask--it was my mom's idea) and then to the doc with my sick kid. I snuck off a bit ago and took a bath in the silence of my world. After a couple of panic attacks, I realized that it wasn't about me, was it. I mean, Da Man used to drive truck, and he well knows his way to the hospital. His trip wasn't about me. And so Grace has a fever and a nasty cough; that's not my fault either.
I came to the conclusion while I was in the bathtub that I put a sense of self-importance on myself all the time. Maybe it's because I thrive on thinking that the world won't rotate properly if I am not in control of everyone and everything.
But, for now, this topic has to wait because someone--or two someones--need clothes and another someone needs a bottle of water to take her pills with. And they're relying on me. *snort*