Wednesday, March 4, 2009
My daughter has been throwing up since before daylight, and now she's weak and shivery and a crumpled puppy, rolled up under the covers, fitfully asleep. I refuse to leave her like this. I want to be home to ply her with tea and crackers and soup, to rehydrate her little body. But oh, the angst of missing work in these times. Just staying home and taking care of my girl feels like a fireable offense. My performance review is tomorrow, too. Okay, take a deep breath, because this is how it is. There is nothing more important in this moment that being here with my sick child.