Cavanaugh woke up sneezing yesterday. I had a sore throat. We hoped it was allergies. I always hope it’s allergies.
When you have a child, a young one especially–the kind who can’t blow his own nose or maybe even figure out how to blow with your help–a cold means you’re in for it.
And since I had Cavanaugh I’ve realized there are the parents who will quarantine themselves and their family to keep from sharing germs, and those (usually with kids in school) who figure they’re going to get everything anyway so they go to playgroups, parties, stores with their kids and share the sick.
I fall somewhere in between. I’ll warn my friends if we have signs that show any kind of viral infection we might share and then let them decide if they want to risk it. I like it when they do the same.
But sometimes, like yesterday, when there are sneezes but no fever, no stuffy nose, I assume it’s allergies and have a playdate. Then, when my son wakes up at midnight coughing and with a low-grade fever, I text the person to say, “We’re sick. I’m so sorry. Hope you don’t get our germs.”
Then I start trying to figure out where we picked them up. Could it have been the playdate last week with a friend who no longer had cold symptoms? Nope. We’d stayed away on Tuesday and waited until the gunk was gone on Thursday.
It was the kid with mucus-falls from nose to lip who wanted to play the marble game with us at the toy store on Friday. I looked at him and thought, this is trouble. But we were playing and he wanted to play and it was a public place. And I’ve taken Cavanaugh to the same toy store to hang out and play hoping no kids would be around and whatever germs clung to his little fingers would die before another kid touched them.
This was much more direct contact. The sweet snotty kid shared marbles with Cavanaugh, handing them to him with slimy fingers. Oh, I knew and didn’t protect us, didn’t prevent it. It’s like kissing a lover with a cold sore. You might as well just say, “Give it to me now!”
As with any roaming virus, he could have gotten it from a grocery cart or any other random place, but it was the boy. I’m sure of it.
So Cavanaugh has a cough and runny nose. I have a sore throat and tight chest. I slept while he played with his daddy this afternoon.
He was asleep before 9 tonight and I’m about to join him–four hours or so before my typical bedtime these days. The heavy head and tender joints are begging me to lay them down to sleep.
I’m still not sure if I’m ready to join the quarantine camp of viral avoiders. Playdates and playgroups will remain off-limits for us because they’re inside and you’re touching all the toys and sitting down for snack, but Cavanaugh went to get Vick’s Vapor Rub at the store today, where he rode in a cart that some unsuspecting person will touch.
What do you do when your kid is sick enough that he might be contagious but still has so much energy that he needs to play? Would you take him to a toy store or playground? What if you need tea or medicine or groceries? Would you keep yourselves at home?
today and the chapter for this month was on Spirituality and Motherhood. When you don’t have a church or other spiritual community to help your child be a part of, how does one introduce issues of faith?
, which Cavanaugh wanted me to read to him–not one, but two times:
