Saturday, June 28, 2008

Mama Medicine

My hand combing though Lauren's hair at the graveside.

Right now it is not quite 8 am on a Saturday morning.  I woke up to the sounds of Sabrina throwing up.  Normally I would have been way devastated by such a noise.  I know that usually when I hear throwing up sounds, I need to clear my schedule and plan on tending to the sick one while juggling the others and keeping them separated for a day or so till they feel all better.  Today none of the dread that usually accompanies the stomach flu came to me.  Isn't that strange.

Right now Sabrina is asleep next to me in my bed.  She has thrown up pretty much every 30 minutes for about 2 hours now, but it is basically just dry heaving at this point.  She has slept in between.  She is a good patient and doesn't get too upset about throwing up.  (Not like Ann who screams in anger that she can't control her body while flailing her head in all directions.)   Maybe the lack of dread is because it is Sabrina and not Ann who is sick.  But it could be contagious and they all could get it.  So the dread should still be there.  But it isn't.  

Maybe it is not there because my perspective has changed and suddenly having a kid who is sick and will get better seems like a pretty good thing.  Maybe the dread is not there because for the first time in 2 weeks I am really needed and I can help.  There was not much I could do for Camille, try as I did.  There are few things in my life as a stay at home mother that others cannot do for me.  And so many have lovingly helped to do those mundane jobs of the housewife.  

But throwing up kids -- well that is one you don't let other people do unless you are physically totally unable.  First off, you don't want anyone else to get it, especially other people's kids.  And more importantly, kids need their mom when they are sick.  

There is a medicine just in the presence of your mother.  I know, I have had a few doses of that myself recently.  Something about having your mom around just makes you feel better.  She doesn't have to even do anything special.  Just having her near, with her hand on you somewhere, helps.  Thank heaven for mama medicine.  I am glad to be a provider of it today.

Me and my mother at the cemetery after the funeral