Motherhood: Forever Redefining "Gross."

"Momma, Momma!! My nose came out! My nose came out!! You come and get it please?"

This is what I heard first thing this morning. Maybe I should have been alarmed, but I figured it was highly unlikely that I would walk into my daughter's room and see her sitting on her bed with part of her face missing. But I was curious to find out what exactly had caused her little imagination to take flight so I darted up the steps. And there she was, standing at her gate (aka her "cage door") with a long trail of snot coming out of her nose, across her lips and hanging off of her chin. "My nose came out! You wipe it please?" There was a point in time in my younger years when I would have come at her with approximately 16 tissues so as not to touch any of the sliminess. Especially if it was the greenish-yellow kind. But not anymore. I've left those ways behind.

I've decided that motherhood is so often this junction of cute and repulsive. Well, it's repulsive to everyone else but you. Being a mommy gives you a sort of immunity to gross things. (My personal opinion here, but I think the training for this begins with the ten long months of weird and sometimes disgusting things that happen to your body when you're pregnant). Before Ella and Milo came along, I did my fair share of babysitting and nanny-ing and it often took everything in me not to gag while changing diapers or wiping snotty noses. Back then, I had been known to use a third of a package of wipes for one solitary poopy diaper. Now that I understand how much it costs to buy wipes and diapers, I shudder. (I shouldn't have accepted payment from those parents...) Now, I've mastered the wipe triple fold. Took me a couple of months to get it down, but I'm pretty proud of myself for conserving. Then there are days like today, when I was changing one of Milo's infamous blowouts (poor kid only goes once every 2 days at best and has been that way for months). This is usually a 3-4 triple folded wipe job, AT LEAST. Mid wipe-down, I realize that there are no more wipes in the package and not only that, there are no more refills in the drawer (because of course, they're all downstairs in a Target bag waiting to be unpacked). *%#*!! There was still a considerable amount of poop to be wiped up- enough that I didn't want to have to pick him up and transport him downstairs or I knew we'd both need a bath. I looked around for something to improvise with....and landed on a pair of his socks. (Yes. I did what you think I did). But it had to be done. Not one of my finer moments, but at least they were somewhat soft and...they folded up well inside of the diaper...(sigh)

This got me thinking about some other classic gross-to-everyone else mom-isms? (Disclaimer: if you have actually frozen your placenta, then diced it up and blended it for smoothies and such- you're exempt. You win. Nothing I put here could ever possibly trump that. You're a friggin' rockstar).

--Your child starts choking/gagging/coughing at the dinner table and you instinctively cup your hands under their chin just in case they puke. Because moms apparently love to catch vomit in their hands (Probably because they'd rather most of it go there than all over the carpet). It truly must be an instinctive mom move- like flinging your arm across the passenger seat when you have to break suddenly in the car. I'm pretty freaked out by puke and even I can't explain why I do this every time either one of the kids gags.

--The scratch n sniff test: it's brown and it's near the bottom of your shirt. Is it poop, chocolate, apple butter? Only one way to find out. The crazy thing is, it shouldn't matter what it is because most people would throw it in the wash regardless. But as a mom, I've become accustomed to wearing food as a kind of accessory in my outfits. It's the norm these days. It's sad I know, but if I realized I was looking at the residue of a smooshed chocolate chip cookie, I would sadly probably move on about my errands. But I draw the line at poop. Hence why the scratch and sniff test is valid.

--You take bites of your kids' already partially eaten food. I used to watch parents do this in disgust. How could she put that partially chewed gummy worm in her mouth?? And now I know. Because they offered it to you- that's why. The first time your little girl or boy takes the initiative to share something special off of their plate with you- YOU WILL EAT IT. And you will love it. Because you're now a sap. (You might throw up a little in your mouth afterward, but you will learn to disguise that well too).

--You will carry a bowl of poop into the living room, set it on the floor for your husband and other family members to see, and have a dance party around it. At first, you might let yourself think you're doing this because you want to over-emphasize what a big deal this is to your 2 1/2 year old. But then you realize you're not really over-emphasizing it. You're being 100% genuine. You're actually more excited than a kid on Christmas morning. There is a small turd in the potty and you are considering taking a picture of it and posting it on facebook. HUGE deal.


There is obviously a lot more I could add to this (since the list seems to grow on a daily basis). But for now, I think this is all my stomach can handle writing about. ;-)