Remember when I was freaking out about taking my baby out of the house? Because of germs? Because people kept trying to touch her face and hands? I should have trusted my gut. I should have been more of a jerk about the handwashing. Why? Because yesterday morning my 5-and-a-half-week old daughter woke up with PINKEYE. CRAP.
The short version of the story is that we took her to urgent care (SCARY, but not as scary as the urgent care I visited last fall when I had three ear infections), she got a prescription ointment, and then followed up with our pediatrician today and she's gonna be fine. But have you ever woken up after a long, fussy night to find that one of your infant's eyes is basically goobered shut? If there is any excuse to cry on the phone to your husband, who has already gone to church to preach, this is it.
SO, to all you new moms out there who are worried about what other people think of you shielding your child from their DIRTY, SCUMMY, GERMY hands, learn a lesson from me: Screw them. And to all of you baby-touchers? BACK AWAY SLOWLY.
For extra fun, John and I are both sick with colds. Bad ones.
Also? I hate my haircut.
It's everything I hate about haircuts: chunky layers that are too short, this whole crazy bi-level Carol Brady thing, WHINE WHINE WHINE. I forgot my picture, I was flippant in how I described what I wanted, and THEN I tipped $13. I am a total pushover in every area of my sad life and now I will wear a ponytail (a short, short one) every day for the next three months. Meh.
Well, at least I have friends: