I am that playgroup member.
That one who keeps bringing her kids, even if they're sick.
That one you all like okay, as long as her kids are healthy, and those other times, well, you just grimace.
Ack.
I kept denying it to myself, until today. I'd sent an email out last night saying I probably wasn't coming, except if things were better in the morning, when all the members of my beloved playgroup chimed in via email and said, "No, please, Heather, put the sick kid down! Stay home. Because, see, you're sick, too, and we don't need your germs. Please."
Then I had to look long and hard in that computer monitor screen and realize...I'd turned into That Mom.
In my own defense, it's only because my playgroup is That Awesome. Everyone's wise, and kind, and writerly, and terribly patient. The other, newer playgroup we've been attending? Skipped it. Childcare at church? We just said no. But this Tuesday playgroup? It's like missing my morning tea. Waaah!
Plus my child hasn't been sleeping terribly well lately (thus the clinging, never-going-to-go-away cold) and is Cranky. My husband and I haven't been sleeping too well either, and when she wakes up too early, we use our upper limit of feel-okay-about-it TV watching before 7 am. Leaving me with a cranky, sick toddler that no one wants to be around, except (most of the time) her parents.
And I thought the dumb cold was all but gone a few days ago. Except it ISN'T.
I know, blah blah blah, who cares about my problems when everyone else is sick? I have No Right to inflict this cold on other people. Especially (ahem) the mommies and kids I love so much.
So mea culpa, playgroup. Thanks for being kind to me, even in my sleep-induced selfishness. See, it's just cause I love you so much.
Right?
3 comments:
Oh, you are so sweet, H! I loathe missing WMU more than anything else, and you know my sick kids keep me from it more often than not. I know that desire, and the guesswork that colds bring, and I would never think anything but lovely, happy thoughts no matter when you show up. We love you and Lucy anyway, and just wish you were feeling better, and want to see you regardless. But without sharing germs, too. It's such a tough choice.
You crack me up. If you were REALLY That Mom, you wouldn't think you were. So you must not be. (It's like how crazy people never think they're crazy. Same principle applies.)
thank you, you two. You make me feel so much better. :)
So does the being-the-person-you-think-you're-not work the opposite way? So like, if I think I'm not a fabulously successful writer, I am?
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