Parenthood and Germs, a Hypochondriac's Tale

P90X - Day 27.  More on that another time.

Disclaimer - This blog is meant to be entertaining and is not meant to offend or degrade anyone who suffers from severe (or actual) hypochondria or germaphobia.

My parents have been telling me (and anyone else that would listen) for years that I have always been a bit of a hypochondriac, especially as a child.  It's not that I always thought I was sick, or had some horrible disease (although that probably did happen from time to time).  It's more that I tended to exhibit a great deal of anxiety over the possibility of getting sick.  I'm sure compared to people with "real" hypochondria or germaphobia my anxiety was minor, but as a child it felt real and overwhelming at times.  I can remember other students telling stories of being sick or having to go to the hospital, and by the time I got home from school I'd be almost in tears because I was afraid of the same thing happening to me.

As I got older I kind of grew out of those overwhelming periods of anxiety.  While it's always been there, I could deal with it ok, and the anxiety tended to morph into anger....anger if someone showed up to school or to work with the flu, or the dreaded stomach virus (the stomach virus being the queen mother of all of my germ-related fears).  Anyway, I pretty much got a handle on things......

Then the children came.  First my son then my daughter.  And all the old anxiety came flooding back.  There's nothing worse (excluding tragic events of course) than having sick kids.  My son got his first stomach virus at about 6 months, after we took him to a birthday party at a place called "Pump it Up."  You know the type of place.  Lots of blow-up slides and things, with large glorified hamster tunnels, and 50 sweaty, snotty, germ-ridden kids running around like crazy.  It's basically a giant petri dish, with one inept high-school kid with a bottle of blue stuff who's job it is to disinfect the whole place, that is, if he doesn't have his head up his ass the whole time.

That virus made it's way through the whole family and since then we've dealt with all manner of sicknesses (as all parents do), some of which have been strange and worrisome, but luckily minor for the most part.  And the anxiety is back, my constant companion.  Especially this time of year when everyone has a kid with strep throat, the flu, or (oh, dear God, no) a stomach virus.  I use hand sanitizer all day long and try to deal with it, but some days it can be a struggle.  Every time my son says his throat or stomach hurts, or my daughter grabs her ear and cries, or has one of those all-too-common strange and horrible loads in her diaper, I have to fight the urge to freak out a little bit.

My son got an invitation to a birthday party for one of his classmates......at Pump it Up.  We let it come an go with no discussion, and I rationalized it by thinking "he's 3 and he's around these kids all day anyway.  Why does he need to go a birthday party too."  Some of you might think this is horrible, but when I was a kid, I never had big birthday parties.  It was more of a family thing, and I never really missed it and have never understood the obsession with giant birthday parties for little kids.  Plus, there's just no way I'm taking my kids back to that place before I absolutely have to.

I know eventually my kids will get excited about all these parties and I don't want to stunt them emotionally or socially.  I also don't want to impart my anxieties upon them....but honestly, would a little bit of learned germaphobia be a bad thing, really?

As always, to all of you following this blog (both officially - all 3 of you), and unofficially, thanks for reading, and any comments are appreciated.