Monday, December 13, 2010


            I think my son is allergic to school. If you’re a regular reader, you may recall a warm and fuzzy post a about me playing hooky with my son last week. He was coughing up a storm at school, but his symptoms mysteriously got better by the time I picked him up. I really enjoyed spending time alone with him and truthfully I didn’t feel like being at work any more than he wanted to be in school.
            The next day was Wednesday and he seemed perfectly healthy so I packed him off to school. I was feeling less warm and fuzzy when I got another call from the school nurse. He was coughing uncontrollably again. It sounds like he’s faking doesn’t it? That’s what I thought too. But then the nurse told me that he had begged her not to call me. He figured I wouldn’t let him go to the Cub Scout holiday party that night. And normally I wouldn’t—but he seemed so perfectly fine a few hours later that I let him go.
            Thursday morning he woke up bright and early. He certainly didn’t look like a kid who was too sick to go to school. He looked like he was ready to take on the world and eagerly got his jacket and backpack when it was time to go. Guess what happened? I love the nurse at the boys’ school, but I do not like seeing her number come up on my cell phone. When I picked him up, she told me to have him seen by his pediatrician.
            So as soon as my older son got off the bus, we headed across town to see the doctor. She thought he seemed pretty healthy too and said that maybe it was an allergy. We left with a prescription for Zyrtec nasal spray and tablets. She told me it might take a few days to take effect.
            I shouldn’t have bothered sending him to school on Friday. I should have just let him hang out with me while the Zyrtec worked it’s magic. But I just couldn’t bring myself to keep this perfectly healthy kid home from school. My bad. I picked him up at 1:00. The nurse and I agreed that maybe the medicine just needed a little time to work. Once again, I took him home.
            We had a great weekend. His grandmother is in town and we went to Edaville USA with the Cub Scouts. Even spending Friday night outside in the bitter cold, he had no more than an occasional sniffle or cough—nothing like the uncontrollable spasms he had at school. 

Look Mom! No symptoms!

            So I packed him up and sent him on his merry way Monday morning. At 10am I was out Christmas shopping with my mother-in-law. Guess whose number came up on my cell phone? I offered to come over to the school and just get him outside into the fresh air for a while and bring him back in. She thought that was a good idea and said she’d do it. Then she thought perhaps she could try sending him to a different classroom—maybe there is something about the particular room that’s aggravating him. She called back about 15 minutes later—fresh air, a cough drop, and a bottle of water did nothing to help him. I picked him up around 10:30. His school days are getting shorter.
            He’s finished all of the schoolwork he brought home and was sitting at the computer playing on the PBS website by noon. He hasn’t coughed all day, hasn’t needed to blow his nose, and doesn’t have a fever.
            I left a message with the adjustment counselor at school. Maybe there is something going on that’s bothering him. I’m getting paranoid that I’m going to have to home school this boy. I wouldn’t mind, but then I’d have to home school his brother—that would be ugly. I love him without end and he is one of the smartest, most ethical people I’ve ever known—adult or child. But he’s wired so differently that I get a little crazy just helping him with his homework. As usual, I’m over thinking things and getting ahead of myself. I really wish the adjustment counselor would call me back. James may not be going crazy, but I’m pretty sure I am.