So, like I said before, I now work a three-hour shift at my gym’s childcare in exchange for a membership. It’s especially great because I get to bring my precious Seabass along with me, and he loves it. Eats it up.
No, literally. He puts everything – EVERYTHING – in his mouth. And God only knows how many other kids have done the same. I don’t care if someone walks behind each kid scrubbing the individual toys they leave in their wake with a combination of soap, bleach, Purell and vinegar. Someone is bound to get sick. Last week, that someone just happened to be Seabass.
A parent came in with her 18-month-old boy and mentioned as she walked out to a weight-lifting class that her little dude was getting over a sniffle. Did I say she walked out? Make that ran out like the room was a meth lab on fire, leaving us childcare folks to regard her son with more than a little mistrust.
Seabass and I gave that kid a wide berth, I swear we did. But to no avail. The next day, my sweet fishy was a sniffling, bubbling, moaning, unsatisfiable, snot-encrusted little wreck.
Now, I need to be clear that I completely sympathize with the mother who left her child at the gym. When baby is sick, mommy can’t bring him/her anywhere or do anything besides hold him/her and clock time. It is like a whole new, stronger strain of horrible.
And let me also be fair to the gym. While I love the idea of dropping each of the five billion toys at the gym into a vat of scalding hot water every 30 seconds, it’s just not possible. So I just let Seabass gum up whatever he wants. For some parents, I know this is the most repulsive thing ever. Maybe they even think I deserve a sick infant for such negligence.
But I know other parents who consider germs par for the course and encourage their kids to acquaint themselves with as many nasties as possible just to build up the immune system. My husband is one such parent, by the by.
And all of this would be fine – I would take care of my wee sicko without completely losing my cool – if it weren’t for the fact that my own immune system is crap. That’s right: Despite OCD-like attention to washing my hands, keeping them away from my face, getting plenty of rest, drinking OJ and avoiding direct fluid-exchanges with my son, I got his bug. And it’s been a DOOZY, let me tell ya.
So anyway, now he’s all better and I’m a mess. I’ve never been so sick that I can’t even hear, but for the past 24 hours I feel like I’ve had earplugs in. (If we’ve had a conversation in the past couple days, yes, I really was just nodding and smiling because, no, I didn’t hear you.)
Enough outta me. What do you think? Is it okay to bring a sick kiddo to a public place if you’re desperate to get out? Or is that strictly verboten?