I hate to admit, Round Two

I should have put on my list that I hate to admit how many times I let Spencer stay home from school, for no real good reason.

And by 'real' I mean by any good reason by everyone else's standards.

I can justify a stay home day by the smallest of things. Like last week, when I went to Spokane and was gone for barely more than 24 hours, I let him stay home on Wednesday. Or when we've all been out/up past bedtime, I let him stay home the next day. Or when he barely has a cough, yep, he stays home.

I tell myself it's okay because he's only 5. He's in all day kinder. He's in no way behind academically. What will I tell myself next year, and the year after that?

I can get over worrying what other people are thinking (I'm such a liar, I just avoid people all day so I don't have to tell anyone that I let him stay home). I can get over thinking about what he may or may not have missed out on during his day. But, I'm struggling with getting over the example that I'm setting for him. Especially since he's now starting to pull the 'I don't feel good' card. Which is funny, because the only time that's been the reason for keeping him home, he really was sick, or ended up sick.

This morning was horrible.

He started the morning off wrong by walking into my room and announcing that he didn't feel good enough to go to school. All my compassion for him was immediately gone. I told him "Sorry, you're going." For some reason, as soon as he starts making the excuses, I don't want to hear it. I won't even think twice about having his little hiney hauled off to school.

{This recently backfired when I sent him after he told me he didn't feel good. He came home and proudly announced that he had to go to see the nurse and that he was running a fever. I didn't 100% believe him until I took his temp, yup, it was 101. I think he may have gloated.}

His next reply, "Can I play the computer?" Not wanting to hear the whining and crying when I tell him no, I told him to ask Jason (who was out on the couch laying with Carson). Apparently Jason wasn't thinking clearly in his near comatose state and said "Yes."

Ahh, the set-up for the second melt-down of the morning. He did not handle walking away from the computer very well when I told him it was time to get in the shower. The yelling and screaming and begging to stay home started. Knowing it was all about the computer, no sympathy was felt.

After he got out of the shower, it started again. By now, he's running late because of the fits he's throwing, and he starts to panic about being late, not getting to eat breakfast, not getting to order lunch at school, and not getting to be picked for person of the day. The icy resolve to send him starts to melt. Because he's not usually like this, I immediately start telling myself something isn't right and that maybe all he needs is a good day spent at home. Laying around on the couch, watching PBS, and staying in our jammies all day. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

I couldn't stand looking at his red, puffy eyes and his super pouty face. I convinced him to eat a banana and granola bar in the car and then I got in the shower and left the last of the unresolved issues for Jason to deal with. If I would have stuck around any longer, I would have heard myself say, "Do you just want to stay home today?"

And by 11:30 am I would have hated myself, just like almost every other morning I've given in and let him stay home. But I'm still secretly hoping that I get a phone call saying Spencer needs to come home.