Parenting: The Relentless Worry Generator

This week, MONO! And more. So much more.

Happy Friday, all, and boy am I happy this week is coming to a close. When it started, did I expect that my 8-year-old would be diagnosed with mono? I most certainly did not. Did I think that I’d have a conversation with my vet about euthanasia? Also no. Some weeks are gracious and merciful, while others whack us over the head maniacally with evil crap we didn’t expect and definitely didn’t want.

But such is life, I suppose. Especially life as a parent. And I am well aware that even with all this going on, I have it very easy.

This dramatic opener is my way of easing you into disappointment: I do not have a coherent newsletter for you today. Sure, I have plenty of things I want to discuss. I’ve been reporting some cool stuff. But I do not have a mind capable of communicating thoughtful insights at this point in time. So instead, I will litter your inbox with excuses.

But seriously, mono? I didn’t even know 8-year-olds could get mono. (I mean, I kinda knew that young kids could be exposed to Epstein-Barr virus, the virus that causes mono, but I thought kids didn’t really get symptoms until they were teens. Epstein-Barr is now laughing at me — a cool, acerbic chuckle.)

My daughter is doing okay, but I’ve never seen her so exhausted. Not even when she’s had flu, Covid, or strep. This illness has been especially mean because we also endured a misdiagnosis that required her to take antibiotics that smelled like cat vomit for a couple of days before we realized her ailment was not, in fact, a UTI.

To add to the cheer, my husband has been out of town — out of the country, in fact — for most of the week. Solo parenting with mono, deadlines, teaching, and pets with who’ve lost control of their bowels, oh my! Perhaps unsurprisingly, I showered for the first time today since Sunday. And my kitchen looks like a war zone dotted with random bits of peanut butter and dog poop.

My kitchen this afternoon.

Seriously, though, I am frequently amazed (and horrified) by the amount of crap life throws at parents that we never could have imagined enduring in our pre-parent lives… and that just roll off of us now. We’re accidental superheroes. Smelly, angry, sleep-deprived superheroes, but superheroes nonetheless. My 11-year-old showed me the trailer for the original Avengers movie last night and was like, “Mom, don’t you want to watch this movie with me?” And I was like, um, not really, but also, could Iron Man have cleaned up all the red acrylic paint that someone spilled on the rug today without losing his shit, like I did? Yeah, I didn’t think so.

But wait, let’s get back to the mono. The other thing about this godforsaken infection is the risk of spleen rupture. My daughter can’t do gym class or her beloved weekly gymnastics class FOR FOUR WEEKS because mono is enlarging her spleen and if she gets a blow to the tummy, the organ could rupture and she could need emergency surgery. A friend of mine in high school suffered a spleen rupture with mono and almost died. So that’s yet another fun thing to add to this week’s worry checklist: SPLEEN RUPTURE. Yay!

Okay. Let me balance this endless diarrhea of complaints with something nice. One thing I am actually capable of doing right now is Substack notes. I don’t know if you’ve heard about it yet, but it just launched and it’s pretty nifty and Elon Musk hates it, so I’m all in. I’m on notes a few times a day sharing thoughts and links and pfaffings, so please check it out if you haven’t already. I promise I won’t talk about spleen rupture. Well, I probably won’t. Well, maybe I will.

I hope you are having one of those rare merciful weeks. If not, pile on — let it all out in the comments. What are you dealing with right now? What have you added to your worry checklist this week? If it involves exploding organs, I’ll buy you a pizza.

I’m a guest on the Anchored in Education podcast this week! Listen to it here! Apparently, when I first connected with host E. Scott England, I tried to decline the interview because “I wasn’t a teacher.” Um, but I am a teacher? Wow, my brain. Please send me a new one.