I, Single Mum Illin’ and chillin’ by JULIET WATERS Somehow I developed the delusion that once Ben was in a good daycare, everything would be fine. Finally, I could clear the backlog that had been growing since my pregnancy, write a book, take naps and go out for coffee dates. I had no idea that I should have taken another maternity leave just to get my child through the first few months. I do remember reading that children in daycare tend to catch “a few more illnesses” than stay-at-home children. But I don’t remember reading that they catch these diseases over and over again, and so will you. Had I known this, I might not have been so cool about Ben’s father leaving town for six weeks and my parents hitting the road for Florida. Sure I have friends, but they have no biological obligation to risk illness and help me. Plus, after we passed on a bad flu to a pregnant friend, I decided we should avoid other humans. For a good couple of months our home felt as cozy as an Irish plague ship. It started innocently with a persistent cough that had Ben waking up at 4 a.m. every morning. Then a case of “champignons,” which in English is jock itch. Then a couple of colds, a virulent flu—twice, two ear infections and a recurring eye infection. Then there were the phantom diseases that sent us running to the doctor at least once a week. The bronchial pneumonia that was going around the daycare, but which, in Ben’s case, turned out to be a combination of flu and teething. The persistent spectre of chickenpox and scarlet fever compelled me to keep him home any time he felt a little warm or irritable. To make things a little easier, there are expensive vaccines that are not covered by Medicare: chickenpox, $85; meningitis and ear infections, $120; as well as Prevnar, a course of vaccines that may reduce illnesses by 20 per cent and which costs a few hundred dollars. Balanced against income lost every time you have to stay home, these are probably worth it. Problem is, I couldn’t give Ben any of these vaccines until he stopped being sick. For a while I consoled myself by visiting www.triplets.com. Reading about people who had three sick children in daycare at the same time made me feel a little less like the most miserable person in the world. But eventually I surrendered to the reality that sometimes single motherhood really, really sucks. And when your child wakes up and pukes all over his crib, and you take him into your bed where he pukes right next to the place where you’ve just puked, and no one is around to take care of you, that is one of those times. Another one of those times is when your back goes out, and another is when you have to have a root canal, and wind up with a $3,000 dentist bill. All this, and Ben getting sick happened around the Winter Olympics. I started feeling like if there were a medal for misery we would have come fourth. After the women’s hockey team won gold, I found it helpful to shuffle around my apartment muttering, “Responsibility, perseverance, courage,” and to greet each new development as just one more nasty penalty that I would have to kill. And to think of those girls and everything they had to go through for two hours. And to tack their picture on the fridge, and grumble, “Yeah right, you pussies.” But eventually we made it through. Ben’s been healthy for a couple of weeks now. And no matter how sick it might have made him, he adores daycare. He’s stopped crying when I leave—in fact, he can’t even be bothered to say goodbye. But any guilt I feel about spending less time with him is pretty much gone. It really helps to know that as soon as I’m starting to miss him, he’ll come down with something, and we’ll soon be home, puking, coughing and watching Teletubbies. : Comments? julwat@videotron.ca