Blood, sweat and tears

I never knew that when I signed up for this gig known as "motherhood" that it would entail so much contact with bodily fluids that do not belong to me. It all started this morning as I was changing Finley's diaper and accidentally stuck my finger in the poop. Nice and good morning to me!

Spit came next followed by its relative, throw- up (the noun and the verb). A little pee, some runny snot and a sneeze later and voila - Finley has a fever. Each time either one of my girls has gotten sick, I am pretty laid-back about it...I guess it comes from being raised by a pediatrician and a pediatric nurse practicioner who never believed me when I said I was sick.

Anyway, Finley spiked a fever and it wasn't that high so I didn't freak out or anything...UNTIL...she was just incredibly lethargic. I mean, she just laid on me and was dozing off and I had just woken her from a 4 hour nap (which id incredibly unusual for this baby). I laid her down on my bed and she just laid there not moving, not crying, not sleeping...just...nothing. This was not my child and she was burning up...so...I freaked out.

I called my parents at work and told them I was "very concerned" and they said they wanted to see her and worked her in, the perk of being their daughter. So they poked and prodded and found nothing so they wanted to do a blood test...just a finger prick. I don't freak out about stuff like that so it was not big deal, but back to the bodily fluids...blood all over my shirt from her tiny little finger.

She is ok so don't worry but the bodily fluids don't stop there...oh no...Piper was not about to be outdone by her baby sister and so when we were outside of our house this evening saying goodbye to my parents who had come over for dinner, Piper decided to run to me on the sidewalk and she ate it big time. So I scooped her up and the blood stained my already ruined clothes and I hugged her and told her everything would be alright.

I was looking at my shirt later on and I thought about the stains and I liken it to the stains they have made on my heart. Each time something happens, big or small, important or insignificant, painful or joyous, tears or smiles...it makes a mark on my heart for my girls and I think that one day those scars will tell the story of a content and full life. Do you remember that time when...