All Those In Favor Say Pinkeye!

As I post as DeathMetalMommy, I think it’s about time to remind you all that I am, in fact, still a mother.  Sometimes I need to be reminded myself as well.  Hey, I don’t forget about my kids.  I just forget that they’re mine.  It’s not like I left my baby on the top of the car and drove off or anything.  No, all of mine go in the car, thank you very much. Last week started the two weeks of camp that Mo was scheduled to attend.  Almost as long as a school day and with the same teachers, whom I adore.  He went the first day and had a good time and we all went to the Y that night. When I went to pick up the kids from the Y nursery, Mo came running at me and it looked like someone had put pistachio mascara on that child’s right eye.  Um, whoa.  I leave him for an hour and somebody infects my child with…any guesses?  That’s right, kids.  Pink eye!  Conjunctivitis.   Fantastic.  Pretty quick moving pink eye, too, from the looks of it.  So we got home and I pack muled all the kids into the house.  Then I sent Mo’s teacher a text, telling her that he had what I was pretty sure was pink eye and that, unless it was gone the next morning, he wasn’t coming to camp.  It’s what I would hope that any other parent would do for their child and their child’s CLASSMATES.  Let’s done infect everybody.  No biological pre-K warfare, mmkay? The next morning I surveyed the eyes and, sure enough, matted shut.  I let him sleep and went to work.  There was no way I was about to try to de-crud my child just to send him to camp so he could infect some other kid.  Not how I roll, yo.  So he was out Tuesday and Wednesday and he seemed to get better so I sent him to camp on Thursday, partially because that’s their day to go to the pool and I didn’t want him to miss it. By this time I think it’s important to mention that somehow during this half a week, Lily managed to get pink eye as well.  Mo and Lily never touch.  Ever.  Mo doesn’t even acknowledge her.  How she caught the crud from him, I do not know.  So that on top of teething, she was a real peach. The next morning I put a warm washcloth on Mo’s eyes, yes plural.  By then it was both.  He was none too thrilled by the fact that his eyes wouldn’t open and also because I was attacking him with hot water so early in the morning.  Finally, I was able to pry his eyelashes apart and got him dressed and took him to the bus. Not an hour after I got to work, I got a call from his teacher.  She said he was sick and he was coughing and could we bring him some medicine.  Well, no, I couldn’t.  So instead I arranged for PeePaw to go pick him up.  Friday was a long day. Somewhere along the way Lily decided to randomly throw up here and there.  Don’t know why.   Just one of those mysterious kid illnesses.  Maybe it had something to do with the teething?  I don’t know.  She never managed to have full blown pink eye.  She had a little crud for a day or so, but that was all. Connor, throughout all this, remained strangely impervious, despite asking 85 times “Can I touch his eye?”  You’ve never felt the need before, why now?  I don’t know that there was ever a better time for Dave to go out of town than while two thirds of our children are ill.  He was off enjoying Bonnaroo.  We paid for the ticket; he was going and he better have damn well enjoyed it. Parenting sick kids is not easy and twice as not fun.  You’re trying to find all the washcloths in the house and assign one to each sick kid.  Then you have to try to make sure they don’t cross-contaminate.  Then you have to keep prying them all out of Lily’s hands because she loves to chew on wet washcloths.  Hmm, that may be how she got sick. Each day I reminded myself not to touch my eyes.  And if you think that’s difficult for me, I refer you here.  Try to remember to wash your hands.  I did pretty well.  It doesn’t matter how sick you are, Mama doesn’t get sick.  If you don’t find a way, no one will.  It’s all very Lord of the Rings. I guess having two about to be in school I should just go ahead and get ready for all the sicknesses that go around and stock up on medicines.  Let’s face it; it’s coming.