19 Mar When a Sick Day Turns Into Something Special
Annoyance gradually becomes enjoyment, as Fiona Adams finds herself at home from work for the day with her sick child.
“Don’t tell me you can’t go to school. You have to go to school,” I told my six-year-old daughter as she stared at me with her large blue eyes.
It had started like any other day. After hauling myself out of bed at the crack of dawn and getting ready for work, I went to wake the children for school. Lana, who is difficult to get out of bed at the best of times, pleaded illness. “I can’t get out of bed,” she snapped. “I have a really sore tummy.”
The Guilt of Calling in Sick
After begging her to get up for another 30 minutes, I eventually gave in and rang work, feeling guilty that I would have to take a sick day to look after my daughter. I had visions of my boss rolling his eyes in disbelief. I was annoyed that I was feeling guilty. Annoyed that I had so much work to do that would not get done. Annoyed that she didn’t have the robust constitution of her brother, who would still try to go to school with both his arms and legs cut off, insisting that it was only a flesh wound.
After we dropped her brother at school, Lana seemed better. She ate breakfast and then had a request. “Can we make some playdough?”
I was shocked! We hadn’t made playdough for years. I couldn’t believe that Lana could remember making playdough, and I couldn’t believe that I had once actually made my own. Because I had been back at work since she was two years old, the days of making playdough and having tea parties with teddy bears had been replaced by an overwhelming merry-go-round of work, childcare, ‘Mum’s taxi’ and household chores.
I had a vague recollection of putting flour, water, salt and food colouring into a saucepan to make playdough. After racking my brain for 10 minutes, it came to me – the recipe was on the back of the cream of tartar packet. I didn’t think that we had any hope of finding cream of tartar or food colouring, but there they were, lurking at the back of the pantry. We put the ingredients into the saucepans and 10 minutes later had two balls of dough in pink and orange.
Rediscovering the Little Things
Lana decided that our first project was to make animal shapes. A joint search revealed the box of playdough tools hidden under a bunch of other stuff in the rumpus room. Surprised that they hadn’t been given away, considering all the other preschool toys were long gone, we threw away the old playdough that had gone hard over the years, and it was down to business.
We set to work making pink and orange pigs, hens, cats and love hearts. Then we made worms, pasta and sausages. I had forgotten how relaxing and therapeutic it can be to knead a soft ball of dough in the palms of one’s hands, and wondered whether it might be a good substitute for Valium, chewing one’s nails (my vice), too many wines, or even a missed yoga class.
A Different Kind of Therapy
Next on the list was a pink-and-orange tiered cake for a teddy that was having a birthday, complete with a playdough smiley face on top. We baked it in the ‘oven’ – hastily constructed out of a cardboard box – before singing ‘Happy Birthday’. Then we had to play hide-and-seek with the dolls and teddies as part of the birthday celebrations. It was my job to take the toys through the house and make sure that they peered around every corner looking for Lana, an act that she took great delight in.
After the party, we even had time for a nice long cuddle on the couch, where we read a whole picture book from cover to cover – something that rarely happens these days due to the frenzy of sport, dinner, readers, homework and baths.
The post-lunch activity was a short afternoon walk. We picked up whole camellia flowers in glorious colours that had fallen on the ground. Lana remembered that we used to float flowers in a shallow dish of water, and wanted to do this again. I was amazed at her memory and, again, guilt-ridden that we hadn’t done this for so long.
What We Forget in the Rush
Lana was back at school the next day, and in those rare moments when I could take my mind off work, I found myself wishing for another day at home with her. I realised that, being the second child, she had probably missed out on many of the things I used to do with her brother. I wondered whether I had returned to work too soon, desperate to keep my career on track, and realised that I had let my life become so busy that I had lost sight of some of the more important things.
Next time either of my children needs a day off from school, I will embrace the experience. I will look forward to a day of birthday parties and flower arranging, and a therapy session making pink pigs, orange hens, love hearts and worms.
Illustration by Samantha Paxton
