Last Friday started off as a typical day. I got the boys up to ready for breakfast and school. They got up as slow as they usually do on Friday’s. Peter usually drags his little body to-and-fro until I remind him that tomorrow is Saturday and he gets to sleep in the very next day!
The boys ate their breakfast (cereal bars, banana and apple juice) in the car, so that we could be on time. We had our usual conversations . . mostly trying to get James to stop interrupting everyone else.
Peter and I (almost always) pray before we get to school. We talk about what it means to be good, and why we want to be good. We said our ‘goodbyes’ as he hops out of the car to cross the cross walk to school. He loves crossing the cross walk because it makes him feel like an older kid!
wanted needed to run to the grocery store. We planned on having my sister, Caralee, and her husband over for dinner. It was a Mexican Theme night. I had the dinner plans all made and all but a few ingredients in my kitchen. I was excited about our ‘movie-date’ with my sister and brother-in-law, that Peter (apparently) made weeks ago, without my knowledge 🙂
For ‘some reason’ I didn’t make it to the grocery store. For ‘some reason’ I went home instead. I brought James in, shut the garage door, took off my coat, James’ coat, hung them up, made him his ‘2nd’ breakfast, threw some laundry into the dryer, took the dog out and gave him breakfast, made a pot of coffee, lit a candle. Ahhhh . . . home and relaxed.
Then, I got a phone call, from Tim. The school clinic called to inform us to come back to pick up Peter. He was sick. Barf-sick.
I, then, packed up James’ breakfast, put back on his coat, gloves and hat, put my boots and coat back on, turned off the dryer, blew out the candle, turned off my coffee maker, put the dog back in his cage, grabbed a ‘barf bucket’ and back into the car we went.
Poor, poor Peter. As white as a sheet. The only little person in the clinic. I thanked the nurse and gave him his bucket, buckled him into his car seat and headed back home.
A mother (usually) never thinks twice about how her morning is being interrupted. How things have gone from ‘good’ to ‘bad’ in less than an hour – when we hear the ‘call of duty’ to run and have the chance to help our little kiddo’s. God has graced us with love, built into our souls, for our little ones.
I asked him what had happened. He told me he got sick in front of his entire class, in a trash can. I congratulated him for making it to a trash can!
I got home, put Pete to bed, with a movie on. Cleaned up. . well, let’s just say ‘stuff’ for the sake of weak stomachs. And tried, for the remainder of the day, to keep James and Peter apart, as much as I could, as I lysoled my house!
Thankfully, it was a quick/short stomach bug, and it never got past Peter’s little system. It was not shared, thank God!
Later that day, I wrote a little email to Peter’s teacher, thanking her for taking Peter straight to the clinic! Here was her response . . . .
Oh my word! Bless his little heart. His face went white as a sheet and he politely told me he was going to throw up. And he did. The kids could not have been nicer. They drew him pictures and kept saying how much they loved him. They were saying things like – “Peter is so nice”, “He plays with me when no one else will”, “He always tells Mrs. Ruth he loves her” (which is so true). I said, children Peter is coming back he is just sick, we’ll see him on Tuesday. It was so stinkin’ sweet! We prayed for him and we all missed him. Is he feeling better this afternoon?
I will see you on Tuesday! Hugs to Peter.
This made this Momma’s heart proud to hear these words.
So, if you see a Momma today, with little kiddo’s and you can tell that she loves those little fries of hers . . tell her she’s doing a fabulous job. You never know how it’ll turn their day around. It makes everything worth it!