Every Mom's Nightmare!

I packed him a “lunch” just like his cousins. He was so excited to meet his new baby sister; he just could not wait to go to the hospital. Frankly, neither could I. My niece had been a long time coming and I was bursting with joy at the prospect of a day off, nephew in tow, lunch with the parents and holding sweet, sweet, baby Emma.  We watched my kids get on the bus, waved frantically, and piled into the car. The short drive to the hospital was filled with expectant chatter about baby sister (which from him sounds like baby seester).

It was a perfect south central Pennsylvania September day. Bright blue skies, sunshine and no humidity, for once! Upon our arrival I received the first pictures via text, I was excited now, just a few more moments and I would be holding her! In the waiting room we had snacks with my parents and talked tractors and trucks, normal three year old stuff. New dad came out to say hello to his son, missing him since he was staying with my family for the week. It was almost time to go back; we could see the baby once my sister was out of recovery from her C-section.

A few trips to the bathroom later Dad came out to tell us it was time! I gathered up my stuff, noticing that I had missed a phone call. And then a voice message popped up. I paused, looked at my mom and told her I’d be back in a few, but the school had just called. I wanted to check the message. The school nurse, who I’ve become very friendly with over the years, left a message saying I needed to call her back as soon as possible. Uh oh. So I dial the phone, did not even consider my perfect day was in jeopardy. She quickly assured me that my youngest was fine, but I needed to pick her up.

Pick her up? Why? Well according to the nurse, she had head lice. LICE. What. The. Fresh. Hell? LICE? I had absolutely NO experience with lice, and I knew next to nothing about it. I knew for damn sure that I never wanted it anywhere near my kids or my house. With three girls, the nightmare of nit picking, stuffed animal cleansing and laundry was what I immediately envisioned. While this was running through my head the nurse was calmly reassuring me that this was normal, it happens, and she’ll send Maggie home with a coupon and a pamphlet. A coupon?  I hung up the phone. I was standing alone in a corridor wondering what had just happened. I have three girls. We live in a relatively small home. The child in question was just IN MY BED THE OTHER DAY. My older girls were being pulled from class and checked right now.

I walked slowly to my sister’s room. My mom pokes her head out, asks what took me so long. So I whisper “Maggie has lice”. And in that one statement a lot of things rushed through our collective minds. First of all, my nephew slept over last night. Secondly my mom was due to stay with us for the next week so she could help my sister with the new baby. Lastly, did I have lice? After a quick snapshot of me and baby Emma I make a hasty retreat to my house, where my daughter awaits my return. I’m very lucky; I had a family member close by that was willing to get Maggie so I could steal a few moments with my niece. 

If you have never dealt with a lice outbreak you cannot appreciate how much of a nightmare this actually is in real life. Sure, there’s the treatment, which is a pesticide, for your head. And then picking out the lice and nits…it’s as every bit as gross as can be imagined. However, the part that is akin to a Mom Fight Club is the laundry. Five beds, including mattress pads and pillows, every throw blanket, every throw pillow, EVER GODFORSAKEN STUFF ANIMAL had to be washed in hot, dried in hot.  For me that was about 362 loads of laundry. I took the large stuff to the laundromat. I hauled everything else that may harbor a bug to the basement. I even threw old bedding away and bought new. And then I started to clean. I mean, I am an educated woman, and I know that lice cannot live on surfaces, but that didn’t stop me.

I vacuumed everything, including baseboards, trim and corners. I had lice spray; I treated every piece of furniture. I had sweat dripping off the end of my nose. But I wasn’t done. I made a bleach solution and sprayed it on all the mattresses then flipped them over. I had superhuman strength and one little bug was not escaping my wrath! Obviously I was so mad; I should have been lunching and holding babies. I should have been visiting with my parents and making sure my sister had everything she needed. I should have taken her son to the park for a nice afternoon diversion. Nope, I was delousing my house.

Then, around 1:00 pm it occurred to me. I had not done my due diligence. I had not done the Mom Walk of Shame. I hadn’t called the people my daughter had come in contact with recently. I poured myself a beer. I mean, why the hell not? And I made a list. There was the soccer car pool, the soccer game where she sat in someone’s chair, the sitter and, her best friend. Maggie’s best friend’s mom had just had a baby herself, two weeks prior. And I really liked them, and at 40 it’s hard to find moms who get you. So I had to now call my daughter’s best friend’s mom, my new friend with her two week old baby, and tell her my daughter had lice. The beer helped this seem less of a really bad thing and more of a “you cannot make this up” type of incident.

Since I had hosted her daughter for four days when her baby sister was born, I was fairly certain Maggie had shared with her friend. And I was correct. Just when I thought my house’s delousing process was hell on earth, the thought of doing all that with an infant? Needless to say, it was a rough day for everyone. I never did get lunch, to the park or to see baby Emma again that day.

As the situation unfolded it turned out to be nice to have another nit picking friend to text our lice woes to. We will never know who shared first, and that’s ok. We also will never speak of the sign on the wall at the after school program warning parents about the lice outbreak. We share a sideways glance when someone talks about lice as though it’s a “dirty” disease. It’s neither dirty nor a disease. Lice prefer clean hair. We are triumphant in this hurdle, and we wear it like an invisible badge. And luckily the lice stayed with a few, and not the whole family. Yet.