Ahh children. They change our lives, don't they. They come into this world ready to turn ours upside down. They teach us what it is to love instantly and unconditionally. They say funny, and touching, and amazing things. They figure out how to fix flashlights that you thought were broken after playing with circuitry kids and figure out how to write your name, all by themselves. They sneak into bed with you even after you've put them back in their own twice already. They snuggle up with you on the couch and tell you the love you. And they give you pinkeye.
Oh yes. Pinkeye.
I deal with a lot of pink in my life. In fact, on of my most often said phrases these days seems to be "Just because it's pink doesn't mean it's yours." which, funnily enough, reminds me a little of the phrase we chanted every day when Briton was four "Wild is funny, wild is just wild." But this isn't exactly the kind of pink I was expecting.
I woke up in the middle of the night Monday with a really itchy eye. Not terribly alarming since I've had terrible allergies this spring. But in the morning, once I'd gotten my eye ungunked and open I looked in the mirror and knew that this was no allergy. This, was pinkeye. When I went to see my doctor she walked in and said "Oh your poor eye!" and then smiled and said "Kids, eh?"
Kids eh is right. They don't even have the decency to get it themselves! Not that I'd wish it on them, I mean, come on, I'd much rather suffer through it myself than have them comedown with it. First of all, I don't want to see them in any kind of pain, but also - there is nothing worse than a kid who is contagious, but not really sick. Especially in the summer.
Before we had kids, Will and I used to laugh at the scene in the movie "One Fine Day" where her boss looks at her son and says "Do you know what I think when I see him? Carrier Monkey." But you know what? They are! What with the nose wiping, bottom wiping, force feeding (kidding, sort of) hugging, loving, licking (they lick me, not the other way around. And we're working on stopping that one), it's no wonder mom's are always sick. In fact, it's kind of amazing we survive motherhood.So this morning I'd like to raise my half coffee, half hot water and milk (because, as it turns out, I also have the beginnings of an ulcer, so now I'm forbidden alcohol of any sort and am on half rations of coffee. So I suppose the pinkeye was a blessing in disguise. What if I'd waited until I had a real ulcer and couldn't have coffee at all? We know how that turns out around here!) to all the mothers out there who are snotted on, peed on, licked (surely I'm not the only one) and infected with colds and stomach bugs and pinkeye and still kiss boo-boos and hug fever ridden kids and healthy ones alike. We're one tough bunch my friends.