My Kids Made Me Sick

Have you ever noticed that kids get sick at the most inconvenient times? My three were so proficient, I’m convinced they did it on purpose. Never a holiday passed that one didn’t require a doctor’s office visit and medication.

Holiday illnesses are frustrating. With planning, preparations, and guests, the last thing a mom needs is an ailing youngster. As each special day approached, my anxiety increased. Which child will it be? What will he or she contract? One year the stress was too much. I had watched the children for days without discovering a single symptom: no sniffles, fevers, headaches, or coughs. Finally I cracked under the pressure and shouted, “All right! Tomorrow is Christmas. Anyone who’s going to get sick, do it now!” My family stared at me in disbelief. Everyone remained well. The trip to the pharmacy the next day was for me.

Christmases were the worst times of the year in our house. When relatives asked what my children got, they referred to diseases and viruses, not gifts. We had the flu, impetigo, two cases of pneumonia, pulled muscles, pinched nerves, “pink eye,” three ear infections, a bladder inflammation, and …a partridge in a pear tree. According to my calculations a five-day hospital stay, two office visits, antibiotics, a cough syrup, and an expectorant cost twice what I spent on gifts one year. Twas the season to be jolly? The next Christmas I filled the kids’ yule stockings with throat lozenges, Tylenol, and gift certificates to the pediatrician’s office.

Mothers have mixed emotions when their children are ill. We’re worried and angry. We don’t admit the anger because that’s not an emotion “caring” mothers should have. After all, it’s not the child’s fault he’s not well. We are angry at the affliction that makes our child uncomfortable, steals our rest, saps our strength and patience, disrupts our plans, and costs us money. How dare it invade our home! The anger manifests itself when we think or say crazy things such as, “If I take you to the doctor’s and spend money, you had better be sick.” We may even consider hog-tying an uncooperative child to administer medicine.

Children handle their illnesses better than their parents. Mine watched television, colored, read, and engaged in light play. It’s frustrating to have a sick child that doesn’t act like one. We try to be understanding and patient. The child tries to bet away with all the things he can’t when he’s well: tantrums, goodie mongering, and television monopolies. We get him comfortable, feed and water him, give medicine, and take his temperature. He knows he can just call if he wants something and he always does. “Mom, change the DVD.” “Run upstairs and get me some puzzles.” “Would you get me some ice cream.” The list goes on and on until we do the unthinkable. We raise our voice. “If you can give so many orders, you’re not sick. You’re army material!”

No, I wasn’t insensitive to my children’s health. I’d scurry around the house fulfilling their wants and desires, but a little power can be dangerous. The child may realize that this is his big chance to even the score for all those times you made him clean his room, take out the garbage, and pick up his toys. Even if he doesn’t recognize “role reversal,” ordering Mom around is fun.My son’s hospital roommate was a pro at that sort of thing. For 48 hours straight, the six-year-old kept her parents hopping. “Wipe my nose.” “I’m too hot.” “I’m too cold.” “Cover my feet.” As soon as a nurse or doctor would appear all she did was groan and whimper. Her reign ended when I yelled through the drape partition, “I can’t take any more!”

I’ve found that ill children can be divided into two groups, the complainers and the martyrs. I had one of each. My oldest was a complainer. Never a day passed that she didn’t have something wrong with her….so she said. Some of her ailments were real. Most were not. When she was sick, she had a difficult time convincing anyone.

The middle child would be ill unbeknownst to me. One time she quietly lost her lunch on the backseat of the car then tapped me on the shoulder and whispered, “I don’t feel good.” She’s the one that would remind me six times a day for a month about an upcoming field trip, but wouldn’t think to tell me she was nauseous until it was too late.

Every family has a “carrier.” Carriers bring home whatever illnesses are circulating in school or daycare. They specialize in germ warfare that can bring a family to its knees. Our carrier was unique. She never limited herself to viruses, bacteria, and infections. At Thanksgiving when other kindergartners toted home drawing of turkeys and Pilgrims, she brought home head lice.

All these afflictions can be terribly damaging to a mother’s psyche. I saw that my children had balanced diets, vitamins, warm clothing, appropriate bedtimes, and scheduled check-ups, They still got sick. Perhaps I did too much. As a teacher, I had students who came to school without eating breakfast, adequate rest, clean clothes and bodies, buttons on their coats, no hats or mittens. These students were rarely absent! Are neglect and immunity linked in some way?

I seriously considered experimenting in the weeks before one holiday. I was going to let the girls eat what the wanted, sleep when they wanted, I’d curtail nightly bathing, and hide all warm clothing. My two-year-old could eat things off the floor, drink his bath water, and splash in the toilet. If they remained well, I’d change my entire philosophy on the responsibilities of motherhood. If they got sick, I’d try another approach. Witchcraft was always a possibility. I didn’t get a chance to perform my experiment before they made ME sick.