The Age of Reason vs. The Me Generation vs. The Suppository

Tuesday Planned

1. Wake-up

2. Haul puffy body out of bed and into eldest child’s room to wake her up for school

3. Crawl into eldest child’s bed, snuggle, fall back asleep

4. Wake eldest child, get her dressed, off to school

5. Wake younger child, get her dressed, off to preschool

6. Shop for nutritious food

7. Sit down and eat nutritious snack

8. Pay bills while sitting down

9. Sit down some more and have a nutritious glass of milk

10. Pick-up younger child from preschool, drop off dry-cleaning

11. Sit down and eat nutritious lunch

12. Do laundry

13. Sit down, eat more nutritious stuff

Etc. until this evening when I go to work at bookstore, drink a low fat steamer, and then come home to sit down and, finally, snuggle back in bed.

Tuesday Actual

1. Eldest child wakes with “tummy hurts” - although mommy isn't convinced this isn’t a play to stay home and snuggle in bed more - and so eldest child is sent to sofa by grumbling mom who thinks that she can passively-aggressively guilt eldest child into feeling better, meanwhile drag younger child out of bed and get her ready for preschool, during which time eldest child enters kitchen several times saying, “If I don’t go to school today, can we still go to New York City on Thursday?” to which grouchy pseudo-psychologist mother replies - still thinking child is faking it - that if she’s too sick to go to school then she’s too sick to go to NYC, after a half-hour of which the eldest child ups the ante and actually begins vomiting, and yet mom still is convinced that this is just good method acting.

2. Drag youngest child kicking and screaming to school, kicking and screaming because it’s so unfair that she can’t vomit on cue and so must suffer through a morning of putting “M” words on the Wordy Worm, while eldest daughter insists on keeping-up with the vomiting charade during the entire car ride, with younger daughter screaming that if she has to hear vomiting then she will vomit, upon which eldest daughter threatens to dump the vomit bucket on younger daughter’s head, and then mommy has to scream that if anyone is going to dump vomit on anyone else, it will be mommy doing the dumping, which shuts everyone up because clearly, mommy is insane.

3. Eldest daughter continues puking and dry-heaving all morning to the point where even jaded-mother-who-hasn’t-really-sat-down-yet is finally convinced that maybe all this puking isn’t about wanting to skip the spelling test today, upon which mother feels extremely guilty for trying to guilt sick daughter into going to school, but now it’s time to pick-up younger daughter with more vomiting in the car and a quick stop to CVS for Pedialyte whereupon mother is swarmed by salespeople who so kindly want to help mother and get her and gray, melting, about-to-vomit daughter out of store as quickly as possible.

4. More vomiting by eldest along with a severe headache with mommy moving quickly from acceptance to all-out-panic as we all know that vomit + severe headache = “could be something really bad, like really bad, like the part in the Dr. Spock book where it no longer says Mmmmm, maybe you should think about calling the doctor within the next 24 hours, but sit down and have a nutritious cup of tea why dontchya but now warns Call doctor immediately, why the hell are you even reading this book, put it down, put it down, you embarrassing excuse for a parent!” and all while eldest daughter is screaming-crying that her head hurts so much and of course it’s lunch time and the doctor’s answering service calls back and says that right now they're all out to a nutritious lunch, but someone will call in the next hour and they might as well have said “Monday, August 25, 2008” because now your child is in pain and vomiting and screw you you’ll call back, we're on our way over there.

5. Load vomiting child and non-vomiting-but-highly-put-out-by-all-the-attention-older-sister-is-getting younger child into the car (with bucket and terse warning that if anyone says anything about the sound of vomit or dumping vomit on anyone’s head, mommy will instead drive right to the hospital where she will a) dump both children at Emergency Room, and then b) commit herself - where was I? Oh….) Mommy drives children to pediatrician without an appointment, bursts into the waiting room of perky, giggling, rosy-cheeked children while hauling behind her own a) vomiting, headachey sobbing child, and b) sullen, put-upon, yet begulingly dimpled child-of-hell, whereupon mothers from all corners grab their youngsters, cover them with Bath and Body Orange-Berry Antibiotic Foam, and tell them to just look away, dear, the yucky monster family will be gone soon, just don’t touch anything they’ve touched for god’s sake, what does that woman think she’s doing bringing a sick child into a doctor’s office.

6. Get whisked to examining room where mommy watches eldest daughter sob from pain while younger daughter sobs and tears at hair for the pure joy of it. This goes on for what seems like 32 hours until doctor enters office, washes hands, asks questions, looks concerned, examines daughter for meningitis and signs of neurological pathology, looks less concerned, washes hands very thoroughly, and instructs us to go home, administer acetaminophen suppository (!), cajole vomiting daughter to take a teaspoon of liquid every 15 minutes, and be prepared - if vomiting and headache have not ceased by 7:00 PM EST - to take daughter to hospital for IV fluids and IV pain meds.

7. At least I’m sitting down. It feels nice.

8. Drive home with more vomiting, more crying from headache (all of us), and a brief explanation to daughter as to what a suppository is, upon which we all cry more loudly even though mommy tries to make the suppository sound like fun. Whoo! Hoo! Suppository!

9. Try to give vomiting, sobbing daughter a Pedialyte freezer pop, but daughter refuses, and so mommy gives the freezer pop to the sobbing, aggrieved younger child and plops her in front of a Disney movie to quiet her adorable yammering mouth - but only because over-the-counter pharmaceuticals and Disney are more humane than duct tape - after which mommy fortifies herself by re-reading the chapter in the pregnancy book that strictly and humorlessly reminds her of all the important reasons why she shouldn’t pour herself four vodkas in a row.

10. Tell eldest daughter that now mommy will administer the suppository, upon which eldest daughter stops sobbing and becomes alarmingly lucid and argues like Atticus Finch for her right to not have her bottom administered to, all while mother wrestles with foil packaging, flings one suppository under the bed, accidentally shoots another through the air like a slick white Polly Pocket ICBM, and finally wrestles one into the proper landing place without even waiting to hear from the jury.

11. Eldest daughter falls asleep while restating her closing argument. Somewhere downstairs, younger daughter sings “All The Colors of the Wind”. Mommy washes hands thoroughly, and then - after realizing she hasn't eaten anything all day - shoves seven powdered mini-doughnuts and a glass of Minute Maid lemonade down her throat.


The plan is for eldest daughter to get a good nap and then keep down teaspoons of liquid, working toward a Jell-o breakfast in the morning, all without the need for another re-enactment of Cirque Du Soleil, Supposta!


Aren’t you glad you asked?