Happy St. Patrick's Day

Phone calls from the school... You know you hate them. You are settling into a routine for the day and then, RING. You know, I think we might have been much better off before the dawning of caller id. Sure, you can dodge those phone calls from telemarketers who have somehow skirted around your state's No-Call List. Sure, you can skirt around the calls from people who just suck the life out of you (speaking of NO one who reads here). Sure, you can prepare yourself for the conversation when you see a call coming in, and you just have a feeling you know why that person is calling.

Findlay City Schools. HATE seeing that on my id. The only time I received a call from the school when M was in Kindergarten was when she took a header off the bus. She stayed at school, though. She never was in the school nurse's office.

This year, we have gotten probably five calls from Whittier. Some from the office, letting the bad parent know that their child's lunchbox is still in the refrigerator. But these last few times, they have been from the school nurse.

RING! feeling of dread overcomes me, because as you all know from a prior entry, I have emetophobia.

Hi. This is Wendy, the school nurse. McCayla said she has a headache (we have an appt. at the end of the month to get these checked out), and then I felt her head and she felt warm. She has a temp of 100.2.

I think to myself .. So? Is that REALLY a temp? No. They say it isn't a temp until it hits 100.8. So call me back then.

Of course, this is the conversation in my mind, not coming out of my mouth. I, of course, was the concerned mother, telling the nurse I would be there in five minutes. Thankfully, we really do live five minutes from the school.

So she has some undefined funk. Headache, no lack of appetite, and lower fever. Nothing like it was a month or so ago. She is out in the living room, entertaining her father with her diatribe on why blue trees are just weird, but red trees are ok. Why does Dora talk so loud? Mommy, can I have some Teddy Grahams? I think Jenna drank from my cup.

This is one of those "not well enough to go to school, but not bad enough to be down and out for the day" illnesses.

And then there is Jenna. She keeps terrorizing the cat. She says she is giving him hugs. But those hugs end up in bites because he has had enough. He is SO not a kids cat. And she keeps taking her clothes off. She took them off between 10-12 times yesterday, and her father was becoming VERY fed up with it.

Evan is doing just fine. He and I had a conversation on the way to preschool about him being part Irish. I was trying to explain to him about St. Patrick. It is kind of hard to explain something to a child when you don't know the story. So I finally said "ok Evan... remember that story at the beginning of Sumo of the Opera (a Veggie Tale movie)?" and I could physically see the lightbulb go off in his head. Oh yeah! St. Patrick. Well, when did you live in Ireland? I didn't live in Ireland, Evan. Our relatives are from Scotland and Ireland. Oh ... when are we going?

Evan. What a little man.