To the Mother Who Brought Her Obviously-Sick Child to the Bay Area Discovery Museum on January 3rd

To be fair, she *did* wear the shit out of that hospital gown.

Thank you.

No, really. You’re a peach. I understand that the side-eye I shot you across the “Tot Spot” may not have seemed all that appreciative (yes, those dirty looks were for you), but three weeks, two hospital stays and one terrifying health scare later, I couldn’t be gladder that you brought your germ-infested little darling out to play. Here’s why:

• A Call to (Gulp) Defensive Parenting. That I am a relatively chill parent has always been a point of pride. The Little Lady falls down? Builds character! A sniffle or low-grade fever? Develops her immune system! Antibacterial hand gel? Please. I’m not a total cowboy — my family practices regular soap-and-water hand washing and a strict quarantine policy when the Little Lady is ill — but “hysterical parent” was a description I actively avoided.

But when a “sniffle” becomes hospital-worthy, it’s hard not to question the judgment of one’s inner cool mom. Just because I quarantine my sick kid and practice good hygiene doesn’t mean other parents do the same. So did your coughing, snotting, red-eyed child pass his illness on to the Little Lady? Who knows, but the real lesson I take from your actions is that, much as I may want to be “cool”, protecting my child from the sketchy judgment of other parents may demand a certain degree of Purell-toting vigilance.

• We Were Flu Shot Dodgers. I reluctantly vaccinate the Little Lady despite my irrational, unscientific, hippie suspicions that vaccines are toxic poison the CDC peddles in the interest of herd immunity. However, I draw the line at the flu shot — neither the Hus-b nor I have ever received one, and the Little Lady is already receiving enough shots at each pediatrician visit, thankyouverymuch. But after a parade of doctors asked whether my very sick child had received a flu shot, my crackpot theories about vaccines seemed hopelessly lame. This cold and flu season is not screwing around, so thank you, truly, for delivering a much-needed backhand smack of reality. Flu shots, party of three.

• I Needed a Reminder of the Hus-b’s General Awesomeness. It can be dangerously easy to forget how special your partner is amidst the inanities of daily family life. There’s just not time to focus on the Hus-b’s good qualities when I’m too busy huffing and puffing about how he packed the diaper bag (wrong AGAIN) and his mystifying inability to properly deposit clothes in a hamper. But when he was bravely holding down our screaming child through daily blood draws that I couldn’t even witness let alone help with, the awe, respect and admiration came flooding back.

• An Addition to My List of People I Hope to Never Meet Again: Pediatric Hematologist/Oncologist. {Shudder.}

Then multiple doctors told me that my baby might have leukemia (she doesn’t), and these daily anxieties seemed suddenly absurd. I would have given anything to be worrying that she might fall off the sofa instead of whether she needed a PIC line or a bone marrow biopsy (or worse). Ultimately, we were among the lucky ones who leave the pediatrics ward with a scary story and a perfectly healthy kid. The Little Lady is already back to her regular antics, having managed a burnt hand, split lip and cut chin in just five days of post-hospital freedom. You know what? We’re thrilled.

So again, thank you, anonymous mother who spent January 3rd mopping snot off of her coughing child’s face while he contaminated the entire Bay Area Discovery Museum. You reminded me that defensive parenting isn’t something to be ashamed of, that flu shots aren’t the enemy, and that my husband and daughter are pretty amazing. I needed that.

xoxo,
Priss & Vinegar