YO MAMA: When babies ignore social distancing rules

OPINION

I found a vacant corner of the big blue playmat and sat down with my ten-month-old son. There was a bin of pre-sanitized toys set out for us. A few other moms were already stationed in their quadrants, six feet apart. This was mommy group during Covid times.

I eavesdropped on the usual chit-chat, hunting for an entry point into a conversation. A couple of women were sharing sleep deprivation war stories. Another was recounting her traumatic birth. Someone else was explaining that her kid had started biting. That sounded interesting. I tilted my head in her direction.

As I listened, I glanced down and noticed my son smiling shyly at a little girl across the mat. She smiled back. My guy held up a miniature beach ball from his station and shook it around spastically. The girl laughed. Perhaps she was impressed.

Then it happened. My son started speed-crawling towards her, breaking the social distancing rules. He crossed the invisible border line. So did the girl. She was a bit bigger than my son and paddled her way over like a Labrador retriever.

My head whipped over to the girl’s mom to gauge her reaction. Was this okay? It should have been a happy moment for the baby books, an adorable initiation of play between two tiny humans figuring out the rules of social interaction. Instead, I had no idea what to do. 

You see, navigating social distancing with a baby isn’t easy. Whether your little one thinks it’s time to play pandemic peekaboo with your facemask at the grocery store or is loudly and uncontrollably sneezing in a public place, you can’t simply explain to them that there’s a public health order in place. They will just blow raspberries in your face. Babies, bless their tender hearts, are blissfully unaware of the pandemic and all the parental paranoia that comes with it. That’s a really wonderful thing, but it also creates some sticky situations. As our babies’ caregivers, how do we guide them through this confusing time while balancing their safety and natural curiosity?

Well, before anyone had time to react they made contact. They came crashing together like lines on an abstract painting, all discombobulated limbs and flying strings of spit. It was a beautiful mess. The girl held out a slobber-coated rattle. My son graciously accepted the gift. I applauded their act of sharing, while silently shuddering as my son put the toy in his mouth. Earlier, at the grocery store, I had instinctively flinched and pulled back as a sweet old lady (masked and “boosted” she assured me) leaned in to squeeze my son’s foot. Now, I was watching while he shared spit with another human being. I was so not ready for this, with or without a pandemic.

Just as suddenly as it started, the moment was over. All at once my son was crying and looking around for me. He seemed to have realized how far he had traveled outside his normal radius.

“Mama’s here,” I cooed as he retreated back to our station and scampered into my lap.

That was enough new territory for today. He’d pushed himself out of his comfort zone and so had I. Mercifully, I had also avoided making a decision, which was my main concern — second only to his health and safety, of course. And, we weren’t kicked out of mommy group.

As a mom, it’s hard not to feel overly protective and a bit possessive over your baby, and the pandemic certainly exacerbated those feelings. Like the other moms in the group, I was pregnant during the Covid-19 pandemic, my son was born in it, and he spent his first year growing up in it. We were all doing our best, sitting there with our masks on, trying to sort through the baggage of motherhood while also figuring out how to parent during a pandemic. I wanted to keep my son safe, and I would do everything in my power to mitigate the risks around him, but I also wanted him to be free to explore. And I suppose that’s every parent’s ultimate goal, pandemic or no pandemic.

As much as I loved cradling my son in my arms, shielding him in my embrace, I knew he couldn’t stay there forever. He had to learn to socialize, and he couldn’t do it from the sidelines. We'd figure it out, day by day.

Baby steps, I thought. For all of us.

— Charlotte Helston gave birth to her first child, a rambunctious little boy, in the spring of 2021. Yo Mama is her weekly reflection on the wild, exhilarating, beautiful, messy, awe-inspiring journey of parenthood.

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