I laughed so hard at your last letter! I think every mommy has had a moment like that, at least, I know I have! It got me thinking about all the embarrassing and yucky things our bodies do after babies. And all the embarrassing and yucky things those babies grow up to do. Because let’s face it, kids can be really gross.
I know this isn’t some big revelation or anything, but seriously, kids are so gross! Mine do some of the most disgusting things– sometimes accidentally, sometimes intentionally. Whether they’re licking the bottom of a shoe, chewing on the dog’s rawhide, mixing OJ into spaghetti, picking their noses, eating what they picked, eating something off the floor (seriously, what IS that?), or having some awful bathroom issue, I feel like I spend a lot of time cleaning up nasty.
But that’s not what’s shocking. What’s shocking is that I’ve stopped noticing HOW gross it all is.
Recently the dog was sick. It was at-home-date-night; the kids were in bed, and a special meal was all dished up when suddenly she needed to go out, NOW! J took her. He came back a few minutes later looking green.
He eyed the table and said, “I’m not really hungry anymore. I don’t think I can eat right now.
“Seriously?” I asked. “Why? Because you took the dog out?”
He nodded. I was unsympathetic.
“Oh, come on. Just wash your hands; it will be fine.
He was unconvinced, “Do you have any idea what I just cleaned up?” he demanded, “I can’t eat right now.”
I pushed harder, “It’s not like you had to touch anything!”
J looked at me like I had two heads, growled something more about eating later and slumped off. I was perplexed; I didn’t understand how a little dog mess could ruin his appetite. Afterall, if I refused food every time I cleaned up a nasty mess I’d be skinny, and then it hit me: children have given me a disturbingly high threshold for ick. If I don’t actually have to touch it, I’m not phased by it; it’s just part of the job. I’m in some sort of alternate mommy universe where a good set of rubber gloves and a bottle of bleach cleaner can lull me into false security. A universe where I stay calm even when I notice my kid is chewing gum, and I know I didn’t give her any.
I’m desensitized to their gross.
Maybe it’s a coping mechanism.
You see these pictures?
These were taken a few days after we brought Tommy home. Everyone, including me, loves these shots. But do you know why I’m laughing? I’m not posing. I’m not having some sort of joy- filled mommy moment. I’m laughing because that NAKED baby is pooing all over me. (Who the h$#@ decided naked baby pictures should be a trend???)
That baby is pooing. On me (and my white carpet). And I’m laughing.
Yep, I’m desensitized to gross.
For the record, J is not. He took this picture with T while I cleaned myself up. You’ll notice T’s wearing a diaper!