It Is the Mucus That Binds Us

I realized at the ATM today that I have become a mom, not in the physical sense, I am, of course a mom because I gave birth to a human. No, I've become a mom in the wipe-the-baby's-nose-with-my-hand-and-wipe-it-on-her-onesie kind of way. Outside the bank I noticed that Ivy's nose was running, and so that the lovely woman at the ATM didn't think I was a total slacker with one of those snot-nosed kids, I wiped her nose. With my hand. And I totally would have wiped it with my shirt but I couldn't reach down that far, it would have been really awkward. So, away came the hand with a snot-load and where else am I going to put it? Her onesie had to be changed anyway and, trust me, she really doesn't care if I wipe snot on her. Does it make it better that I made sure to NOT use that hand for the entire banking transaction?

Sigh.

As I walked away, marveling at my momness, I thought about my pre-mom self, who used to be completely grossed out by snotty kids (and they are snotty because they have colds half the year and don't really have a lot of mucus control), I was just sure that that snot and those grubby hands were carrying boat loads of germs and parasites and smudgy sticky goopy fingerprints. Yet now, I love my child and her snot, it offends me not at all. Not like I go out of my way to interact with it, it is just a mucusy by-product of my sweet Tiny. She's not sticky and yucky, she sweet and warm and smells like frosting.

Comments

[Dr. Biggles]

I'm coughing and laughing at the same time here. Yeah, funny how those gross moments turn in to daily deals. 4 montsh ago 6 year old came home and projectile vomited across the baffroom.

Ahhh, good times.

Biggles