Month: January 2017

What Kind Of Sick Are You?

I thought I was feeling better.

I got up, did a few loads of laundry, messed around on the computer. When it came time to take the boys back to school, I got up before dawn – as I always did before – and made breakfasts and lunches, and shuttled the boys to their desired locations.

Shane complained of a sore throat on his way to school. Since he’d spent two days at an indoor water park, I blamed the overload of chlorine on his little system. Then I forgot all about it.

I didn’t feel great while they were at school. I slept for a few hours. But I didn’t have a fever, and while I canceled my substitute teaching job and my dentist appointment, I was thinking that maybe I was on the upswing.

I picked up Shane after school for his orthodontist appointment. I waited in the parking lot, and then he climbed into the car.

Well, he fell into the car.

“Are you still sick?” I nearly shrieked.

He nodded, too exhausted to speak.

“We have to go to the orthodontist!” I nearly shrieked again. “Why didn’t you call me to come and get you?”

“I didn’t feel that bad until sixth period,” he said.

“What kind of sick are you?” I asked. If Shane had what I have, he would miss two weeks of school – at minimum.

“What do you mean, ‘what kind of sick’?” he asked.

“I mean, is it your stomach? A cold? Do you think you have a fever?” I reached into the back seat to feel his forehead. It was warm, but not hot. His cheeks were cool.

“I don’t know,” Shane said.

Long story short, we went to the orthodontist. But by the time we got home, after my first hour-long outing in 12 days, I was exhausted. Shane and I both curled up on the couch, and started watching TV.

Bill had volunteered to pick up Dylan from play practice, so I took a nap.

Shane – whose sore throat is still bothering him – did not take a nap.

But suddenly, I was as sick as ever. I felt drained, achy, fatigued. My “feeling better” was over, and I was sick again.

Except, I don’t know if I am as sick as ever. I wonder how much of it is psychological. I would have thought I’d have risen to the occasion – be the well mom, taking care of my sick child. Instead, I curled into a fetal position and gave up.

It just feels like this thing is never going to go away.

It’ll Be Good Practice for Him to Audition.

Dylan is a singer.

As such, his voice coach advised him to do an audition for a local competition. In the audition requirements it says, “Participants MUST be available to perform” in the Young Artists Awards Show.

When signing up for the audition (which costs $30), I realized that the Young Artists Awards Show was the same weekend as the high school musical. In other words, if Dylan were accepted into the finals and had a role in the musical, Dylan wouldn’t be able to perform in two places on the same night.

I mentioned this to the voice coach.

“It doesn’t matter,” the coach said. “It’ll be good practice for him to audition.” So we acquired an accompanist and paid the $30 for the “practice” audition.

This took place before we even knew if Dylan would try out for the school musical.

Then Dylan got the lead in the school musical. And the audition is in a few weeks.

This morning, after mentioning the upcoming audition to the voice coach, I got a long and detailed text: “Dylan can work with the accompanist during our lessons, and you can work out payment for that with the accompanist. Also, I recommend longer lessons during this time, while he is preparing for the audition.”

The audition cost me $30. And I knew we would have to pay the accompanist (something) for playing piano during Dylan’s audition.

But the text this morning had me seeing nothing but dollar signs: four longer lessons ($$$) with the accompanist ($$$) before the audition ($$$) – for absolutely NO REASON.

Dylan won’t even be able to perform if he succeeds at the audition.

So I mentioned my concerns to the voice coach. I said I didn’t know how much to pay an accompanist, let alone during voice lessons, and that the audition was just for practice anyway and that paying for a longer lesson was also going to be tough, especially since this was just for practice.

The voice coach – oddly and immediately – backed off.

“Okay, just a regular lesson with me then,” he said.

“Should I pull him out of the audition?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said. “He’ll have plenty of other opportunities to audition.”


So maybe I ate the $30 for the audition. But I sure learned a valuable lesson.

When I think Dylan should not audition, then Dylan should not audition.

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