Yesterday her eye was a little weepy, which sounds very dramatic, but really just means that it was wet and every once in a while had a little bit of gook around it. Not overly so, though. I tried to get a look at her eye while Greg held her and she squirmed, but it was too hard. What I could see didn’t seem like anything was wrong.

So Greg and I decided to keep an eye (no pun intended) on it and see if it got worse or improved in the next day or two.

Today, I got a text from my mom while I was at work. She told me that Zoey’s eyelid looked red and a little swollen. Wonderful. I called her to see what was going on and she told me that on top of the eye looking weird, Zoey hadn’t eaten as much breakfast and lunch as she usually does–and she hadn’t taken as long of naps as usual, either.

Time to call Dr. Jones.

I love Zoey’s pediatrician because she’s really down to earth and she wears Elmo slippers around the office. Plus, she was the first one to tell me that I was doing a good job as a mom (when she saw how frazzled I was at the first visit to her office after Zoey was born). She was able to fit us in and within a couple of hours of talking to my mom, I left work early and met Greg and Zoey at Syracuse Pediatrics.

The nurse weighed Zoey (19 lbs., 12 oz.) and then we were ushered into a small room to wait for the doctor. By the time Dr. Jones came in, Zoey had ripped up most of the paper on the examination table, looked through a board book, thoroughly examined a couple dents in the wall behind the table, drank some juice, stuck her finger in Greg’s ear at least twenty times and completely mastered giving both Greg and I high fives.

Thankfully, Zoey’s ears were fine, so we didn’t have to worry about the possibility of an ear infection. But pink eye was the obvious answer. And that meant that my next question to Dr. Jones was, “So, how long is she contagious for?” 24 hours. 24 HOURS! How many times can I gently remind my baby that she can’t touch her eye in a 24-hour period? I’m guessing about fifty billion.

But that also meant that Zoey can’t go to my mom’s house tomorrow because Mom also babysits my niece, Rowan, who’s four, and a baby, who is younger than Zoey. I don’t want them to get pink eye, especially the little baby. So, tomorrow I get an unexpected day off from work that will be filled with eye drops, tissues and lots of cuddles.

Now, one would think that getting news about Zoey having pink eye would make Greg and I rush home and quarantine her. Nope, not us. We took her to The Outback for dinner.

It was the first time that just the three of us have ever been out to dinner in a sit down restaurant together. Zoey sat in a high chair (that we made sure was wiped down with the ever-present baby wipes before we left) and loved the fact that Mommy and Daddy shared all of their food with her. For the first time, she tried french fry bits, lettuce bits, cooked onion bits, steak bits, rye bread bits and garlic mashed potatoes. She especially favored the bread.

She played with a couple of toys I had thought to stuff in the diaper bag before we got to the restaurant and she talked in baby babble. No crying, no complaining, no grouchiness. She was as good as gold–and people who walked by her smiled at us and mentioned how cute she was.

All three of us had a good time and Greg and I both felt really good being there as a family for the first time. It felt right. Everything was happy and wonderful.

And then just as we were about to leave, my eye started to itch.


About cdhoose

I'm a mom to an amazing little girl and have another little one on the way. I live in Upstate New York with my fiance and daughter, 2 big, crazy dogs and a 3-legged cat (who has an attitude). I hate know-it-alls, Lindsay Lohan and socks with holes in them. I always seem to get myself into trouble (which entertains my fiance to no end), but I try hard to be a good parent. Also, I occasionally work on scrapbooking the fifty billion pictures I've taken of my kid. And I like ice cream. The end.

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