September 07, 2021

Article at

Crying babies, and crybabies, make life difficult

It’s said a major source of stress and burnout among child care workers is the incessant sound of children crying.

Parents can understand that. A crying child signals some urgent need, something you have an immediate instinct to make better. You want the child to be reassured, you want them to be safe, healthy, and happy.

But they’re just babies and toddlers, after all, and they can be so unreasonable.

I think of that while I try to manage my own stress levels, as thousands of infantile Canadians demand an end to the Covid pandemic but refuse to do the one simple thing that will finally end it—get the damn needles.

Their whining and crying is getting to be too much.

Vaccine hesitancy has been a problem since long before this pandemic began. Doctors and nurses insist the best way to convince reluctant patients is to listen to them, understand their concerns, answer their questions, and give them good solid evidence that getting a shot is the best thing for themselves and everyone else.

The worst thing is to shame them, embarrass them, or suggest they are being stupid (or infantile).

Yeah, well, sorry about that.

We all hate masks, we all hate partial shutdowns, we all want freedom of movement and a return to something normal. We even had a taste of it this spring and summer, and it was such a relief. And now, with almost enough Albertans vaccinated but with new danger at our doorstep, we’re subjected to more crying and whining.

“Are we there yet? When are we going to get there? Why aren’t we there yet?”

We’re almost there.

“I wanna go home!”

And I can’t find words to express my contempt for the thousands of morons protesting against healthcare workers (!)—abusing doctors and nurses reporting for work, abusing patients, even obstructing ambulances.

What is wrong with these people?

I’m preaching to the choir here, I know. Our readers are mostly older people, the age group that has been at the forefront for protecting themselves and others, and who have tried to lead the way out of this nightmare. Most of us are parents and grandparents, we have been protecting people our whole lives.

But the longer this pandemic drags on, the more dangerous it potentially becomes. Young children have so far been mostly resilient to the dominant strains. Thank goodness for that, since they are not yet eligible for any of the effective vaccines.

All it will take is one small mutation, and we could have a deadly new strain that spreads through our schools and daycares. You may call it fearmongering, but as a grandparent to small beautiful children, you’re damn right I’m afraid.

We need about a 90 per cent uptake among eligible people to stop this thing, and the solution is right here in front of us. A visit to your corner pharmacy is all it takes. But roughly half of the eligible people in our region are unvaccinated. That’s appalling, and it’s embarrassing.

You don’t want to wear a mask? Then let’s all get our shots. You want the bars to stay open late? Let’s get our shots. You want to support local business? Shots. You hate the idea of a vaccine passport? If we all get our shots, you won’t need one.

You want your family to be safe? Get your shots.

We rural Albertans like to think of ourselves as some special tough breed. But quitting isn’t tough. Giving up isn’t tough. Turning your back on your neighbours because you’re scared of needles isn’t tough. Whining and complaining about getting the job done isn’t tough.

It’s time for us to be big boys and girls and take our medicine.

Sheesh, people.