A Rant About Your Sick Kid

Dear Friends,

I get it. Kids get sick. From what I've heard, your kid turning into a permanently sniffly, glassy-eyed snot monster the second she started daycare was practically inevitable. And believe me, I understand that sometimes you just have to take your kid and get things done, whether they're sick or not. What you do not have to do is visit people with young kids, or invite them to your house without a heads up about the state of your fever-ridden, coughing, maybe stomach flu having outbreak monkey.

The first time, you did give us a heads up. Sniffles and a bit of a tickle in her throat. Didn't mention the pink eye. Didn't mention the cough was a persistent, wet bark. I got pink eye. My kids got pink eye. Both got the cough - my oldest got bronchitis. And you were apologetic. You'd had no idea she was so sick and I told you, these things happen.

And boy, do they ever. The second time it happened, we didn't get a warning and the boys were sick for a couple of weeks.

Somewhere around the 3rd or 4th time, I started seriously questioning whether it was worth visiting. You are awesome people. Our kids love yours. We love spending time with you. But there's a serious cost-benefit analysis that goes into it now. Is it worth the risk? Now, every time we visit, we surreptitiously look your little one over: does she have snot on her face, are her eyes glassy, is there a rasp in her little voice, does she have a visible rash? It's a weird set of things to look for off the bat, but it is what it is, I guess.

You know how I told you we decided to have the Hobgoblin's 1st birthday just be a quiet, family affair? We decided that because I didn't want my baby's first birthday present to be a case of whatever bug your daughter is carrying. Because you're great friends, and we couldn't have a party with out you, but I'm tired, I've got other shit going on and my kids have been sick enough this winter.

You're not the only people who bring your sick kids places. The Monster's favourite winter activity is his indoor play group. He loves it. His doctor recommends it for his social development. It's often the only thing we do outside of the house in a given week and it's absolutely the highlight for my boys. As a rule, people stay home when their kids are sick, but one time a kid there was coughing all over everything and everything on the way out - and the monster got sick and missed 2 weeks of playgroup, which is a big deal when you're 3.

His first day back was the day of your party. We went to your party in the evening, we looked over your daughter. She looked fine. We had a great time.

Well over an hour after we arrived, after our kids had been playing in close proximity in your daughter's bedroom, one of your other guests told us that the Hobgoblin getting sick now would be good, as it would build his immune system. I asked why my 1 year old is supposedly getting sick.


Oh, because our daughter has a fever, you blithely said. Because a kid at daycare has the stomach flu. 

It was loud at your party. Your kid didn't cough in front of me until we were on our way out the door. But she must have coughed in front of you. You must have known this wasn't a case of the sniffles or being a bit under the weather. You knew, and you didn't care and I'm having a really hard time reconciling that with the intelligent, fun, caring people we've been friends with for nearly a decade.

So, my kids got sick. Again. Because I do care if other people's kids catch what mine have got, we kept them home from play group. Every  week, for over a month, I've checked the monster's temperature, or listened to his cough and told him, "sorry, Bud, maybe next week." I've watched him stoically accept this, and blink tears out of his eyes.

We've visited the ER 4 times in the last month. 3, I strongly suspect, were related to our last visit with you. Like the time the Monster spent the morning vomiting because the sheer amount of mucous this virus produces meant that he swallowed enough to make him puke. Or the time the Hobgoblin's fever got frighteningly high and wouldn't come down for several days. You know what's not fun? Watching your baby get a plastic bag taped to his junk for a urine catch (but hey, it's better than a catheter, right?). You know what else isn't fun? Holding your baby down so they can take blood for cultures; wondering how they can take that much blood out of such a little body and have it still be safe. You know what really isn't fun? Listening to your baby scream when he's restrained inside a horrible plastic tube with his arms over his head, so they can X-ray his chest.

Which brings us to today. They're better. Finally. Fevers are down, coughs are gone. It's over. You know what else is over?

INDOOR FUCKING PLAY GROUP.