The initial joy of sending kids back to school often fades quickly. As soon as they step into those classrooms, it’s only a matter of time before the sneezing, coughing, and other delightful exchanges of germs begin. Suddenly, you find yourself at home nursing little ones with colds, fevers, and sore throats.
Since school resumed a few weeks ago, my two oldest children have been home for what feels like an eternity, battling nasty viruses. Trust me, this is not the kind of fun anyone anticipates. As the one who’s home caring for them, I’ve observed a familiar pattern of emotions that unfolds in seven distinct stages:
- Denial: One morning, my son woke up sounding like a congested foghorn with a scratchy throat. Naturally, my initial reaction was disbelief. “Really? Are you sure?” I probed. “Maybe you just slept with your mouth open. Let’s check your temperature—no fever? Great! Drink some juice, have breakfast, jump in the shower, and here’s a big dose of DayQuil. You’ll be all set for school!” I insisted he’d be fine.
- Acceptance with a Dash of Panic: An hour later, the school nurse calls, saying my son is in her office, feeling miserable. Oops! I guess he truly is ill. I pick him up, settle him into a cozy chair with a blanket, ice water, and the remote, then cancel my plans for the day.
- Hope: At this stage, I cling to the hope that this virus is just a quick 24-hour bug. I stock up on fluids, popsicles, and soup, even splurging on a movie or three on demand. Fingers crossed that he’ll be back to school soon!
- Love and Concern: I check on him frequently, offering him saltines and chicken noodle soup, and let him lounge in bed while I bring him cool compresses and medication every few hours. I listen to his complaints with patience and kindness, but after a day or two, my sympathy starts to wane.
- Anger: By day three, the thermometer reads 103°F. The toilet is a disaster, and I’ve run out of cold medicine and soup. I’m done with this chaos! I call the doctor, who informs me it’s likely a virus that could last anywhere from 5 to 7 days. No antibiotics for us! I hang up, venting my frustrations about the lack of cures for the common cold. Serenity now, please!
- Depression: Four days have passed, and I feel like a captive in my own home. Wearing pajamas non-stop and binge-watching Nickelodeon has left me feeling stir crazy. My child shows no signs of recovery, and as I scroll through social media, I see other parents enjoying life. It’s bleak when I start looking forward to back-to-school night just to escape the house.
- Joy!: Finally, one morning my son announces he feels much better! We high-five, and I send him off to shower while I step outside to relish the sunshine on my face. Just as I’m about to celebrate, I catch a glimpse of my youngest—red, puffy, and oozing. Great, pink eye. Back to stage one—noooooo!
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In summary, navigating the rollercoaster of childhood illnesses can be a trying experience for parents. As we cycle through denial, acceptance, anger, and finally joy, we learn to adapt, even if it means starting the process all over again when the next virus strikes.
Keyphrase: 7 stages of a virus in parenting
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