When I was a kid, I cannot remember a single time when my parents were sick and needed help. Or, at least, I don’t remember a time when they were camped out on the couch with saltines, jello, and Sprite while a cartoon droned in the background. For some reason, because the visual markers of when I was sick didn’t occur, I believed they simply didn’t ever get sick.
As an adult, I realized I just wasn’t particularly observant. Of course, my parents got sick at times. The difference was that even though my whole world narrowed to the couch with light snacks and entertainment when I was unwell, my parents had to continue to be adults. If I think back hard enough, I suspect I could tell now, but at the time it just never occurred to me that grown-ups could get something as mundane as a stomach virus.
So imagine my utter shock and dismay the first time I got sick after becoming a mom. Logically I knew it was a possibility. However, the utter betrayal I felt was very real. How dare my body make it so I was functioning at less than ideal conditions when small people were needing me. Rude.
It slowly dawned on me that there was no mom with saltines and Sprite to make my day better. Instead, there were unending demands of parenthood. The infant did not care that I had a raging headache and fever. She needed the same level of care regardless. My big kids still needed help with homework and getting ready for school. It was a disconcerting realization to say the least.
Yes, of course my spouse was working with me to get things done when he realized I was sick. The problem was I spent a lot of time soldiering on pretending like I was fine. It wasn’t until he walked in on me throwing up while trying to simultaneously soothe a crying baby that he realized I wasn’t ok.
I am sure most people understand that asking for help or at least not actively trying to hide the fact they aren’t ok is important. It took me being the least ok I had ever been before the bottom dropped out and I had to ask people who were more than happy to assist me for help. The amount of gentle scolding I’ve received is embarrassing, to say the least.
I am getting over a bout of Covid. My kids are all old enough to mostly get themselves up and out the door for school with minimal assistance. They need less help than they used to. But, if I didn’t tell them I was sick they would have no idea. I mean none. They aren’t bad kids or unobservant. They just don’t usually have the wherewithal to notice when other people aren’t feeling well. When they do notice they are compassionate and helpful. My husband notices, but I need to let him know that I need backup and not just try to push through. He’s not stupid or uncaring. I spent so much time trying not to be a bother and trying to be a good mom that I basically trained him and the other people around me to not notice something was wrong until my life came to a halt.
So, what’s a parent to do? First, I guess, realize it’s ok to say, “Hey, I need help.” You’re not a bother. People I don’t know well have volunteered to help us when they found out I was sick. It isn’t nearly the big deal I thought it was to say, “Hey could you bring some Gatorade over and drop it on my porch?” to a friend who asked if I needed anything. She wasn’t asking to be polite. She was asking because she felt helpless and wanted to help.
My point in all of this is that we need to normalize the fact that asking for help isn’t a weakness. You don’t get perfect attendance awards for adulting. You wouldn’t tell your 10-year-old with strep throat to just “try harder” and keep working through school and chores. You’d make them stay home, plunk them on the couch with cartoons and some Sprite and make a doctor’s appointment.
I had hoped that the whole global shutdown from COVID would have taught us that there is no bravery to be found in sticking it out when we are sick or depressed. We aren’t actually helping anyone if we become too unwell to do our jobs. We chance getting others sick, and we delay our own healing. Furthermore, we’re setting a bad example for our kids.
I don’t want my kids getting to adulthood and not realizing adults can and do get sick. Adults can and do need mental health days. Parents are people too. We need to let our kids see our imperfections. They’ll never learn that things like illness aren’t personal failings otherwise.
Yes, we sometimes do need to push through our own sickness to be present with our kids. But we also need to make sure we go to the doctor, get rest, drink water, and take the time we need to get well. We aren’t bad parents for needing to have the older kids make ramen for themselves and watch cartoons while we get the sleep we need.
A dinner of cold cereal or sandwiches doesn’t make you a bad parent. Putting on a movie so you can rest doesn’t make you a bad parent. Sometimes you have to do what you can to get through a day. Yes, your kids need you. But you can’t be present if you never get well. I am absolutely useless to everyone if I’m running around with a fever and pass out because I pushed myself too hard.
So, ask for help. Tell people who care about you when you aren’t ok. You’ll be surprised by how much of a burden they don’t find you to be.
