My sweet Abby has had a bit of a cold. Nothing serious. Just the sniffles and some aches. A kleenex is her constant companion, but other than that she has been fine. Until we started school.
She did well with her handwriting. It’s an easy subject for her and she has always enjoyed trying to write letters.
Next was her Explode the Code book. She’s not so keen on that one. She wants to be able to read as well as her brother. She just doesn’t want to have to waste time learning how. She managed to work her way through the first word on the first page before she wilted. Her head flopped down onto her arm. Her lip stuck out. Her eyes drooped in sadness. Then came the whining. She didn’t feel good. Her nose was runny. Her whole body hurt.
There are times when my baby girl is truly sick, and it breaks my heart to see her so miserable. This was not one of those times. But I offered her a sick day. If she felt that she really wasn’t well enough to do school, she could take her blanket, pillow and stuffed animal and rest for the day.
If she chose a sick day, she couldn’t come back out after lunch feeling miraculously better for art and history (her two favorite subjects of the day).
She had to think about that, but eventually chose the sick day anyway. Until after lunch. By then, she really didn’t want any more rest and she was tired of being in bed. Finally, I told her that if she fell asleep, she could be done resting when she woke back up.
It was a good compromise. She was happy, convinced that she would fall asleep fast and wake up even quicker. I was happy because I knew if she fell asleep, she would get the rest she needed. And if she didn’t fall asleep, she would get the rest she needed.
So back to bed she went.
Less than two minutes later, she was back.
“I fell asleep, Mom!”
“Abby, you weren’t back there long enough to fall asleep.”
“I did. I laid down and closed my eyes and then I woke back up.”