You know those bad motherhood moments? The ones that haunt you afterwards, as you’re kicking yourself and wondering how bad you’ve emotionally scarred your child? Well, I had one of those this weekend.
Flash back to Saturday night. It was my work’s “winter party” (read holiday party thrown in January), so the kids were at their cousins’ house for the night. We picked them up and got them to bed a bit late, and then at 3am, I awake from a deep sleep to the sound of Little Miss crying. She only wakes me up with crying for one thing typically…
And yes, it was puke.
Not many common illnesses can strike dread in a parents’ heart as much as knowing the stomach flu has entered your house.
So, from 3-7am, I nursed her, and held her, and there were several puking incidents (but yay for the fact that she can now puke into a trash can on command!).
Once we finally rolled out of bed at 9ish, she seemed fine. She was chasing her brother around the house. And there was the matter of the pre-paid ski lesson that was scheduled to start in an hour and a half.
This was the first lesson in a series of 5, and it was the lesson where they’d be divided into groups and get their instructors. Plus, ski lessons aren’t cheap. In fact, they’re darn expensive.
The quandry: I knew if I stayed home with her, she’d be fine and keep running around and I’d be bummed we flushed that money down the toilet. However, Murphy’s law would have it that if I decided to go to ski lessons, she wouldn’t be fine.
After much dilema, I decided to take her to ski lessons. Afterall, she hadn’t puked in like 6 hours, and seemed to be just fine, right?
So, I packed her up and took her to ski lessons, deciding I would stick around to guage how she was feeling, and thinking I could take her home if needed.
I’m sure the instructors thought I was a helicopter parent as I hovered nearby. First, they stand the students by a pole with a number, and then the instructor calls that number and everyone follows him. Except when Little Miss’s group was called, she was too busy making googly eyes at me to notice her entire class had left to follow the instructor.
So, I marched her up to her class, and then tagged along, watching the chaos of one teenage instructor trying to corral 6 beginner skiers and get their equipment on.
Long story short, she was doing well. In fact, according to the instructor, she was the best in the class (a class of all boys, by the way). I could tell it was time for me to back away, so I went to grab a few runs myself towards the end of her lesson.
When I came back to pick her up, she was in tears, and the instructor informs me she puked in the corner of the lessons room. I guess they had given her hot chocolate, and it came right back up.
That’s when the guilt set in. Gah. I should have just let her stay home. But then again, she did so well! My heart broke for that little girl, knowing she tried so hard while still feeling crummy, so I promised her I’d get her a treat when she was feeling better. A dolly? A game? A cupcake? You name it sister, Mommy guilt is in full play.
We stayed home yesterday, and she hasn’t puked since. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to be holding the whole experience against me or the sport of skiing, so no long term harm done, right? And I have to admit that working from home in my pjs in front of the fire with my girl by my side isn’t a bad way to spend a day, especially if she is done puking!