Guilt and the Working Mom ~ Part 2

Yawn, stretch, chuck the alarm clock across the room...wait...it's not the alarm clock screeching, it's Sweet Tater. Uh-oh. That does not sound like a good one.

Yes, you guessed it. Sweet Tater was burning up. Sigh. The cough was just the beginning of a great (can you sense the sarcasm there?) week. Monday had me running out at lunch to take her to the doctor for the nasty phlegmy cough. It was confirmed that she had a head full of snot (really? I hadn't noticed!) and her ears were red but not infected....yet. "Let's nip this in the bud and start her on that strong, once a day antibiotic" says my FABULOUS pediatrician. Honestly, love her. She ROCKS!

Well, we didn't nip anything by the 102 degree fever that Sweet Tater woke up with on Tuesday. After a game of rock-paper-scissors with the hubby, it was decided that I would stay home with her and he would take Tater to daycare and go on to work. No worries, right?

Wrong.

Knowing what was on my schedule at work had me feeling HORRIBLE about calling my boss with the bad news. Add to that the fact that my "back up" isn't proving to be much of a back up at all. The niece who is in college isn't back for the summer yet. And we have no other non-working family available. So I call my boss and .... don't get him. I HATE leaving phone messages like this but short of leaving her with THE DOGS, I have no choice. I mean, I love my Border Collie but she's getting up there in years and her hearing isn't quite so good. Besides, a lack of thumbs is hell when trying to change a diaper.

Now you're thinking that I had a semi-quiet day at home where I did some laundry and watched some daytime TV, right? Well, YOU ARE WRONG. I did have the TV on but it's hard to hear over the completely and totally miserable little girl who is pitifully flopping around in my lap. Not wanting to be held but neither wanting to be let down to play. She just thought life sucked and everyone needed to be punished. The Queen had spoken. It was to be war....all day long. I did have a couple small brief respites when she snoozed but invariably these were cut short by a nasty 90 year old chain smoking emphysema sounding cough. Fun. I also made the mistake of going out to pick up some additional medication for her and also picking up Tater from school...before nap. Like I was going to convince him to take one at home. I guess I was already beginning to develop some delusions at this point so I figured, what the heck, he can just play quietly while I deal with her.

Ummm, no. That was not going to happen. He had trucks to move, sirens to screech, and various other small explosions to supervise. While his sister was still screeching like an Irish Banshee and fighting me on EVERYTHING. Don't worry, it gets better....doesn't it?

I'm still feeling the "hate calling out of work guilt" that is compounded by the newly arrived "I would rather be at work...now I suck as a Mom" guilt and the "I really don't like doing screaming babies and snot" guilt. Calgon, take me away. It's not even 2 pm and I already look like death on a cracker.

Let's not forget the healthy dose of guilt that I've been feeling since taking her to the doctor on Monday because she was sick....guilt over her being sick at 10 months when her brother was rarely ill at all. AKA Daycare Guilt. But alas, that was covered in part 1 of my little guilty series. There are times that I feel so mired down in guilty feelings that I'll never manage to dig my way out. Somehow, the little triumphs of the days make up for it. The smiles, clapping little hands, the first "bye bye" wave, "big" little boy hugs and sticky kisses. They all help make up for it. And let's not forget the sleepy little "luv you too mommy" that I get from Tater when I check on him for the 3rd or 4th time for the night.

One day at a time....

By the end of the day, I was looking like a bag lady, stressed out, crying and just generally ready to go hide in the closet in the basement humming cartoon themes and rocking intermittently. Longing for an adult beverage to help me relax but knowing that DH was working late so I was forced to just do some "mental relaxation" techniques. AKA crying on the phone with another mom who just happened to call me to chat when unbeknownst to her, I was loosing my sanity. Forget it, I'd lost it!

Tater's escapade didn't help but that's another blog.

When DH finally got home, I put on my cute little sleeping mask (we have the single brightest clock known to man ~ it's like a laser beam in my eyes) and put in the ear plugs and passed out...for 2 hours until Sweet Tater woke up. Bleary eyed doesn't cut it. Managed to get her back to sleep but it took a while and a few choice words to DH to wake up and help. Couldn't blame Sweet Tater...she was miserable. By 4 am and the next round of rude awakenings, it was determined that the fever that broke the day before was back.....sigh. Here we go again.

I will close by saying this...God bless the following people who saved our lives on Wednesday, Ravishing Red, the Great and Magnificent Nana and the All Powerful Paw Paw. Whew...regardless of the 4 hour commute for the latter, it was worth it. Thanks, gang!

Oh and add some guilt for having to call in the in-laws from ANOTHER STATE to come and help so I maintained my status as gainfully employed.