Things have been moving slowly here recently. Today Owen is home sick for the second day in a row, and although I'm glad to be able to cuddle him and comfort him, I'm also a bit sad to have missed my weekly power yoga class and the free time I was going to spend volunteering at the library. But, as Mum says, this is what being a parent is all about, and as Owen is rapidly approaching the age when all children begin to disdain their parents, I'm happy to get all the affection I can.
Like yesterday, at Target, when I had dragged a sick and droopy Owen out to grab some essential sick-day supplies, I relished the fact that he reached for my hand in the store and held it throughout our entire shopping foray. True, he did know that I was going to buy him a Scooby Doo DVD, but I don't think that explains it. Later in the day I also enjoyed a nice long nap with Owen on the sofa; my head at one end, and his at the other, with a couple of blankets draped over us.
And here we venture into nosey parker territory . . .
The past two days another kid in our 'hood has been home sick from school as well, but I worry about him because he's been home alone. He's in fifth grade and has two siblings (third grade and kindergarten) and a single mom. My feelings toward the mom are ambivalent: It must be hard to miss work, but is it safe to leave a fifth-grader at home alone?
Every day after school the three kids, grades 5, 3, and K, get off the bus and walk into an empty house. Then they hang out for a couple hours until the mom comes home. Twice the children have been unable to get into their house because the eldest forgot his key. One of these times, the kids did not come over to ask to use the phone until the mailman went by delivering the mail and found all three of them waiting in front of their house, in the dark. The mailmen then brought them to my house to see if they could wait with us. I was horrified. I will never understand why the kids didn't just walk right on over and knock on my door; I see them at the bus stop every day.
A couple weeks ago the eldest did knock on our door in the evening. The kids were not locked out, but because it was about an hour after their mom's usual getting-home time, they wanted to call her to see why she was late. So this request, we realized, meant that they have no land line in the house. They can't check in with mom; mom can't check in with them.
I can't do anything except let those kids use my phone when they ask, but it drives me crazy knowing they're in that house alone. I suppose I could redirect this energy towards something more productive, like carpentry or dress-making, but we all know that's not gonna happen.
