Magazine article Working Mother

Dear Diary

Magazine article Working Mother

Dear Diary

Article excerpt

Yee-haw! My husband is going out of town-for the whole week. It's a mini vacation from wifedom. No cooking, minimal cleaning. Bring out the sweatpants!

Monday

5:47 p.m. "Mom, what's for dinner?" my g-year-old son, Brookes, asks.

"Corn dogs for you and cottage cheese and salsa for me!"

My children look at me as if I've lost my mind.

8:49 p.m. Total control of the remote control-back-to-back reruns of Sex and the City. Ah, life is good.

11:37 p.m. Not great, though. I never sleep that well when Berick is away.

Tuesday

1:17 a.m. "Mom," my 7-year-old, Colin, whines, waking me up, "I feel hot." I fumble for the thermometer, one hand on his forehead, and say a short prayer as I watch the numbers climb, climb, climb to 102.7 degrees. Why this week?

3:39 a.m. Ibuprofen, ginger ale and two Popsicles later, the fever is down and Colin is asleep in my bed. But is that a rash I see on his chest?

7:53 a.m. Colin's rash has spread to his extremities. I call the pediatrician.

My sitter, Francie, who has arrived early to bail me out, listens to the complicated logistics: "Brookes will go to afterschool so you can focus on caring for Colin. I'll be home by 4:30 to take him to the doctor. My mother-in-law will come over at 5:15 so you can leave. I'll take Brookes to basketball tonight. Any questions?"

"Is Colin contagious?"

5:19 p.m. "This is just a virus running its course." The doctor is so confident, so soothing, I forget for a moment that 60 percent of Colin's body is covered in angry red spots. …

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