Teach your parents well

Today a short post dedicated to my beloved daughter and teacher, Maya. 

Maya didn't look well last night so I arguably prematurely took her to urgent care. My husband is away, and if he were here, there's no way we would have taken her. But after the trauma of losing my dad, I just don't have an equilibrium for a serious cough vs. a not serious cough, and she looked pale and has a history of out of the blue pneumonia. 

After my lovely friend and colleague Sara agreed to watch Ben, Maya and I journeyed to downtown Netanya, which is always an adventure. Several kilometers away, parking is impossible, smoking is the norm, and maybe? because of the night's world cup game, drunk middle aged men were on the street who didn't look like they'd be conscious for the first quarter. The clinic opened at 7:30 p.m. and the frequent visitor to the clinic let us know that we would be third in line. Maya "left" her book in the car and looked at me with her sad, red eyes and asked for my phone. As I prepared my AP Euro test, we were called back. Maya described her illness in her sweet Hebrew. The intake nurse was unimpressed. We were seen by a doctor right away (come early), and he said she sounded good. He gave her Tylenol and prescribed cough syrup, which I googled was the generic for Benadryl. 

She and I were both relieved. The stakes were high. Maya had a a very big role in holiday show at her school. The principal had sent out an email that day to not send sick kids, no matter what, to school sick to be in the holiday show. Maya was so excited for her role.  Maya's grandparents were coming to see her perform for the first time and staying with us during the week! And although it was sad our "American family" couldn't come, she would be wearing one of her cousin Lila's beautiful dresses, so they would be with us in spirit. 

...

This morning when Maya woke up, and I gave her a hug and felt her burning skin, I  swallowed the tear welling in my eye. 

"Maya my love, we have to take your temperature," I said. 

39.2 degrees. 

A decade living here, I still don't know the conversion to Fahrenheit, but I knew she wasn't going to be in that play. 

Her little brother, Ben, looked at the thermometer and whispered, "Oh no! The show." His empathy quickly waned and he started yelling, "No! Saba and Savta. I want them to come here. This ruins everything." 

Maya sent him a death stare and I urged her not to respond. But she did, just not angrily towards him. "It's okay, I'm used to being disappointed."

I gave Maya medicine and rushed to make arrangements for Ben to get to school. He would be leaving 30 minutes earlier than normal, which meant I'd need to rush a pissed off kid and still needed to make his snack. And I needed to call in for a sub. Luckily, I had already asked my colleague Zohar to cover one of my blocks so I could see the morning production of the show, so that was all set. 

After the Tylenol kicked in a bit and Ben was off to school thanks to our neighbor Lulu, I told Maya how sorry I was that she wasn't going to be in the play. 

She looked at me and smiled and said:

"Mommy, it's okay. There will be other plays." 

And this is why Maya is my teacher. Because she's right.

 I have to be honest. There was a millisecond where I considered dosing her to hide that fever so she could be in the play. Who would know? She's had the cough for a month. I tested her for Covid. I would NEVER send her to school with Covid. But a fever. What's a fever? And she's worked so hard. And everyone says she so good in it! But I didn't. I didn't. Because you just don't do that. Because it's an elementary school play and there will be other plays, or there won't, but you don't send your kids to school sick. I was tempted, though. 

Maya taught me this lesson a few weeks ago. For the first time we finally found her a real soccer team to play on. It's a girls soccer team in Netanya. But there's not that many other girls soccer teams in Israel, I guess, so after practicing for months her first games (and maybe only games, I'm not sure) are when we are going to the US. The first one is on the evening we leave for the airport. I said to Maya,

"Maybe we can go the game and then go straight to the airport?"

"Mom, that's crazy," Maya said. "I'll be all sweaty. Then we are traveling for 25 hours. No thank you." 

It's not that Maya's not a dedicated soccer player. She is excellent. She is just reasonable. (Makes me think of my dad.)

There will be other plays. There will be other soccer games. 

But there's only one Maya. 

Professional Photos by https://www.efratsaar.com/

Thank you Mrs. Goldstein for a wonderful musical experience!