Reflections on Getting Sick as a Parent

You know, I didn’t get sick very often. Occasionally, sure, but it wasn’t a frequent occurrence. When I did catch something, it really wasn’t a big deal. Back then, as a young, single guy without kids, being sick didn’t disrupt my laid-back life at all.

I always made an effort to avoid illness. I washed my hands religiously, kept my distance from kids when they were unwell, and when a gentle approach seemed better, I’d offer a comforting hug instead of a lecture.

Couch Bound

Looking back, I remember as a child, I actually enjoyed “being sick.” I mean, the quotes are telling—because I didn’t actually like being unwell; I liked the excuse to stay home from school. It was a win-win after a particularly fun day. I vividly recall one time, after I got home, knowing that I could just lounge on the couch and watch TV for a while without any worries.

There was that one time I had mono, and I think I was home for over a week—maybe even two. I secretly pondered how long I could stretch it out. “What if I don’t go back for a month?” It’s funny how a child’s imagination works, right? Mono was serious, but the thought of ditching school was way more appealing than the sore throat that came with it.

Bacteria Magnet

Fast forward to now—I seem to get sick much more than I did in my 20s. It’s pretty striking, actually. I’m convinced that as soon as the frost hits the lawn, it’s only a matter of time before I catch something. And then, a month later, it happens again. I mean, if I’m really unlucky, it could happen a third time.

It’s not like I’ve developed some chronic illness or anything. No, it’s just that I’m a father now, and my kids are still quite young. They touch everything at the store, put their hands in their mouths, and before long, we’re in a whirlwind of sickness that takes down the whole family—first one kid, then the other, and soon after, my wife. Eventually, I’m sick too—whatever it is just barrels through the house.

Amor Fati

I’ve experimented with different strategies to manage this. I’d almost resigned myself early on to the inevitability of it all. Accepting that I will get sick someday helps me cope with the chaos of having sick kids. It’s surprisingly liberating, you know? Instead of spending time worrying about germs, I’ve learned to just embrace it. I walk boldly into the cold, almost carefree.

Sure, I still try to minimize sickness. I mean, I remind my kids to wash their hands and cover their mouths when they cough. I’ll tell them to turn away when they forget, and in an exasperated voice, remind them to be more mindful. We do our best to prevent illness, even though it often feels futile. But hey, at least I made the effort, right?

Getting sick has become part of family life, and I’ve come to terms with that. We can encourage good habits and hygiene, but we can’t completely shield ourselves. When one person gets sick, it seems inevitable that the rest of us will follow.

Family Heatstroke

Of course, it’s all intertwined. Once you have a family, isolation isn’t really an option. You’re all in this together. Separate bedrooms, sure, and different closets, but we share the same home and space. We have our own meals and utensils, yet we still share many aspects of our lives. There are parts of us that are innate and others that are shaped by experience; it’s hard to disentangle them completely.

We strive to raise our kids in certain ways—through our actions, prayers, and the values we instill in them. But there’s so much that’s unintentional. Sometimes, the words they say echo my parents’, or their bad habits reflect back on me, prompting a realization that I need to change.

It’s a mutual shaping: I am not the same person I was before kids, and they’ve played a big role in that transformation. Starting a family means taking on the responsibility not just for raising children, but also accepting that it won’t always be just about you anymore. Life becomes a shared experience—both the pretty and the not-so-pretty parts.

Through thick and thin—both in sickness and in health—this is the journey we’re on.