Parenting babies and toddlers, as Jen Gerson can tell you in disturbingly graphic detail, requires a totally revamped view of what an acceptable level of hygiene and cleanliness might be compared to those blissful days pre-parenthood … and that was before Canada’s public healthcare system began sinking under the weight of the pandemic:
“Covid 19 Masks” by baldeaglebluff is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0
Ask any parent of a small child right now and you’ll get much the same tale of woe. We’re in the trenches, man. The illnesses have been utterly relentless since school began. We’ve seen nothing like it before; it’s as if three years of sicknesses are being crammed into three months.
So while we’re stressed out, grumpy, and annoyed, we’re not surprised that the shelves are bare of basic children’ medications, and the hospitals are overwhelmed. This was all entirely predictable — and was, in fact, predicted.
That’s why Moore’s advice, to mask up in the Stage 4 biohazard that is my own home, was responded to with an instant eye roll. It was the type of well-intentioned advice that I completely discounted as out of touch and impractical — which is how we used to regard quite a lot of public health advice in the Before Times. “This is a very fine sentiment, but has no relationship to the world in which people actually live.”
Sorry, my little girl just coughed into my mouth.
Moore’s announcement felt like a trial balloon for the return of mask mandates in Ontario in the hope of offsetting the effects on pediatric ICUs, which are currently being overrun by sick children. (The government has thus far not imposed a mandate or even hinted that it may, but you know Ford and his sudden reversals.) Federal public-health officer Theresa Tam has already suggested we mask indoors — but has also stopped short of mandates.
I admit, seeing this from afar, I was struck by two entirely contradictory emotions, neither of them positive.
The first, as better articulated by one of my good friends and fellow mom-in-arms was: “Jesus, we shut down the entire world for two years to save the lives of the elderly, and now that the kids are getting sick, it’s like pulling teeth to get anyone to accept even the most moderate, least intrusive measure — masking.”
The other emotion, equally intense and angry, is the exact opposite of this sentiment: My daughter needs to build an immune system. She needs to be exposed to germs, bacteria, bugs and illnesses. That can’t be avoided. It can only be further delayed.
If the current wave of extraordinary pediatric illnesses is the entirely predictable result of three years of social isolation, lockdowns, school cancellations and, yes, masking, then how will more of any of this help matters in the long run? All we’ll be doing is spreading out the pain over a longer period of time. Non-Pharmaceutical Interventions are sometimes necessary, but truer words were never spoken than these: “There are no solutions. There are only trade-offs.”
Both of these sentiments are rooted in the same, bone-deep mommy anger. This pandemic, and our response to it, has revealed a profound intergenerational inequity that demands redress. Once again, our kids are paying the bills, literally, figuratively, and physically.
