Every night my high school freshman son says, “Do I have to go to school tomorrow?”

Every night I say, “Yes.”

I suppose he gets?‚? A for effort,?‚? since if history were to repeat?‚? itself, I’d say no just about every time.?‚? Now I?‚? just stand firm and off. he. goes.

We’re in the process of retraining ourselves to overcome the drudgery of sniffles and some?‚? undeniable lifetime obstacles, and just tally forth. Each and every day he is getting to his first class at 8:32 a.m.

But, “Is he too sick for school?” is?‚? a question every parent?‚? struggles with now and then, because sick takes on many connotations.

In preschool, it’s pretty clear cut. Where I teach if a child gets in under the radar with a green runny nose, we phone home. Heck, chances are we don’t let Mom out the door.?‚? If anything arises where someone between the ages two and four?‚? is just not?‚? acting like him or herself, they go home.

When my kids were in elementary school, if the nurse would call, we’d figure out if there was really a problem or not.?‚? I don’t leave sick kids at school, but sometimes it’s like deciphering a riddle to figure out what’s wrong and what’s not.?‚? I learned that when my daughter was in kindergarten.?‚? She would go to the nurse not feeling well.?‚? The nurse would call with the report of a low-grade fever. I’d zip around the corner and pick up my daughter, take her home, take her temperature to find it a resounding and normal 98.6.

By the time my son was in junior high?‚? there were?‚? extenuating circumstances that warranted extraordinary measures. For all intents and?‚? purposes, I homeschooled 7th grade. I don’t remember 6th grade, and 8th grade was a free-for-all.

Which brings us to the land of the Freshman.?‚?

So, attempting to lend credence to my new and improved stance on attendance, I?‚? searched for backup.

In a recent USA today article it states the primary rules for keeping a child home from school…

???‚¬?? Vomits twice or more over a 24-hour period.

???‚¬?? Has an oral temperature higher than 100.

???‚¬?? Coughs almost constantly or has difficulty breathing.

???‚¬?? Repeated bouts of diarrhea or bloody stools.

???‚¬?? Exhibits abdominal pain for more than two hours.

???‚¬?? Has open sores on the mouth.

???‚¬?? Displays a skin rash or red eye, and you don’t know why.

???‚¬?? Is infested with lice or scabies.

???‚¬?? Shows symptoms of contagious diseases such as chickenpox, German measles, hepatitis A, impetigo, measles, mumps, shingles, strep throat or whooping cough. Children can get vaccinations against some but not all of these.

Dare I say? Duh.

But there are parents who pile their kids onto the bus when they shouldn’t, no matter how old they are.?‚? And I get it. Parents have to go to work to keep their kids in the latest jeans and gym shoes and to keep food on the table. ?‚? And in the case of single parents, well, school is when our kids are safe, and technically under lock and key. It’s the only time of day I get to take a deep breath because I know that my children are under, at the very least, adequate adult supervision.?‚? I will admit that a kid home from school disrupts my schedule, my work, and most importantly, my peace of mind.

So sick days are doled out very carefully around here nowadays.

There are also parents who keep?‚? kids home for little more than the sniffles.?‚? For the record, I read in that same USA today article that children with colds can go to school unless their symptoms prevent them from participating in normal activities. Colds are most contagious very early in the illness, sometimes even before the symptoms appear,?‚? it said, quoting?‚? Jeff Sperring, a pediatrician at Riley Hospital for Children in Indianapolis.?‚?

Kids at all ages exhibit symptoms that might warrant a day at home, if there is someone there to care for him or her. But with the onset of adolescence and the high school experience looming in our household?‚? new light has been shed?‚? on things.?‚? Times change, and rules change.?‚? And often that’s actually a good thing that teaches a life-long, not just a high school, lesson.

Unless you can’t go, you go.?‚? And sometimes you go when you really don’t think you can.

And that’s like teaching two not-so-old dogs new tricks.

This is his job. To go to school,?‚? to do his school work to the best of his ability,?‚? and to save his “sick” days for when he’s really sick, or we face some undeniable emergency.

So far, so good…and only about 140 more days to go.

This year.

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My 30th high school reunion will take place next summer and, aside from the panic about what I will wear and how tragically I may or may not have aged, I already know what to expect. I’ve been to two other reunions of my high school class as well as four of my husband’s. His class has them every five years and such a spacing is rather like watching a time-lapsed photograph of people who are gradually getting older, but in ways that aren’t always obvious until you compare their THEN and NOW faces. That is, if you don’t count the guy who wrote on his “What I’ve Been Up To” profile that he had been recently “abducted by Jesus”.

In the years since graduation, some people will have done extraordinary things with their time and others will have done nothing of the sort. Some will be a walking advertisement for aging gracefully and others will have let themselves go completely. Most will have have broadened their horizons with college degrees and the intellectual, emotional and experiential moments that those accomplishments bring will have defined their careers and their lives in a way that will distinguish them from the others. Despite all of that, some will be happy and fulfilled and some will be miserable or simply underwhelmed with life and what it has to offer.

It sometimes takes 20 or so years before time, the great equalizer, begins to bring together the worlds of the socials, jocks, freaks, intellectuals, spazmoids and wallflowers together in one big room before you attain the one gift you’ve needed your entire life--perspective. And that’s what my husband and I try –and fail–to bring to our sons: PERSPECTIVE. We attempt to share with them the long view of life…as seen from the vantage point of thirty years down the road. Guess what I found out? My life map is an old map that is only useful for one person. Me.

My past reality isn’t any more of a litmus for my kids’ lives than my parents’ reality was a pattern for me, and not because I’m a female and my sons are…well…NOT. It’s because things change. The culture changes. If you don’t stay on top of it, you won’t be able to walk around in anyone else’s shoes long enough to give them a crumb of advice. Sure, some things don’t change. Hard work is still a good idea and compassion and ethics are some of the best tools with which to arm yourself. Do unto others, finish your homework, study hard…yadda, yadda, yadda. Those are true now and have always been so.

None of that tells me how to advise my kids when it comes to putting high school into perspective after they come home from a particularly brutal day. It’s tempting to just tell them that, in the long run, high school is really nothing. It’s the equivalent a bunch of emotional embryos sharing the same air space for four years. Sure, you go back for reunions and everyone cracks a cold one in honor of nostalgia. You retell the old stories for the laughs they bring and you experience that temporary rush of familiarity and camaraderie, but it’s far from the end of the story. If you’re lucky, you get to redefine yourself again and again over the years…despite the fact that you didn’t attend your own prom nor a single dance your entire four years of high school. See? I did it and I’m not bitter. Not one bit…

Yet, how do you share this tidbit of homespun philosophy with your kids without completely invalidating the good experiences they’re having at this particular moment in time? I want to lavish praise on my kids’ accomplishments, most of which are far beyond anything I ever did during my first 18 years of living and such praise infers that these particular honors that have been bestowed upon them MEAN EVERYTHING. Still, my boys struggle sometimes and I (we) want to help them. How does one encourage kids to embrace their current place in life and to reach for the stars and then, when they fall short (socially or academically), to put it all into a ‘big picture’ perspective where they begin to realize that this era is just one in a series of eras? If perspective teaches us that high school cliques can’t rule the rest of our lives and being a wallflower who was bad in math doesn’t necessarily determine what happens to us after that, what’s the point of trying in that moment? Or even caring? Why not just give up and wait for college and the real life to start? How can something be the “best time of your life” ( I truly challenge that statement) and “the lowest level of misery” (Now you’re thinking!)…all at the same time?

How do you maximize a kid’s triumphs without blowing the whole thing out of proportion or philosophize their failures without making them feel that the experiences between one’s freshman and senior years are worthless? In other words, there has to be a way to encourage your kid to make their adolescent years count for something and then use the same voice to downplay the outcome when it’s less than satisfactory…at least until they can pick their self-esteem out of the dust and try again.

Oh, wait. Did you think I had the answer to this question? Not on your life. I’m still trying to figure it out for myself. Besides, I’ve got that reunion coming up and I’ve got to develop a “game face” that will allow me to function that night whilst pretending not to care. Operators are standing by to take your calls and advice.

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