Mother Knows Best (at least sometimes)

I hate being wrong. I hate feeling stupid. Maybe that's a normal characteristic. Maybe it just means that I'm overly prideful. All I know, is that, growing up I was so utterly humiliated by it, that I would seldom answer questions in class, or talk to other people for fear of saying the wrong thing. It's taken awhile, but I've grown up quite a bit in the last some odd years, and I am not as frozen by my fear of being wrong or feeling stupid. I still have my moments, but for the most part have come to an accepting place for myself. And when I do make mistakes, which then makes me feel stupid, I can often be found chanting to myself, "It's okay, Jeanette, you're allowed to make mistakes." Anyhow . . . So, last night before going to bed, Joseph complained that his throat was hurting. I offered to look at it, but kept getting interupted by other children in the household, and in the mean time, Joseph fell asleep in his bed. I didn't think much about it, as he does suffer from some pretty bad allergies, and has plenty of drainage. This morning, however, his throat still hurt, and he had a temperature of 100.8. Okay, not just allergies - something else is going on here. I tried to look down his throat, but he was having a hard time getting his tongue to lay down in the back. I had a nagging thought that it might be strep throat (I often have this thought, since I had strep throat twice a year, every year while I was growing up). But then, my kids don't get strep like I did, so it's probably just some viral thing. A few minutes later, Joseph says to me, "It feels all thick in my mouth." Oh! My wise sister, Michelle, used to say that she could always tell when her kids had strep vs. having just a drainage sore throat because their voice sounded creamy. I called the doctor for a strep swab. And those of you who know me, KNOW that I don't call the doctor very often (not afraid of them, just can handle most things here at home). In the doctor's office . . . "Well, it looks like it's just his allergies acting up, having some drainage, etc. Most kids with strep won't even talk because it hurts so bad (Joseph sang her the alphabet because she asked him to), but just to be on the safe side, we'll do a swab to see. If it comes back negative, you can be on your way." She leaves, and I start feeling a tad bit stupid. Why was I so hasty in bringing him in - afterall, I never even looked down his throat. I just paid a $15 copay, and it's just his allergies? Oh brother. Why did I even come? I should have just let him stay home and sleep on the couch; he's so tired that he's trying to fall asleep on the exmaining table. Why did I jump at the thought of strep? Joseph doesn't usually have that - my kids rarely have that - and yet, he did describe the thick feeling, and his voice does sound creamy to me. Who knows? I still might be right. $15.00! You know what you could have bought for $15? Stop it. It's okay. Even good mothers make mistakes. The doctor enters. "Well, both swabs came back positive. It seems he has strep." It feels good to be right. Of course, now I feel bad that I feel good about it. Pride - it's such a bother. My feelings of triumph only last momentarily, because I pull a sweet boy to my side, and remember just how miserable strep feels. I'm sorry, Joseph. Sorry that you don't feel well buddy.