Vomit, Boogies & Number Two’s
My husband is out of town again, surprise-surprise. So, I was trying to catch up on some of my stories while the baby was napping this weekend. I’ve fallen in love with the main character of the show, American Housewife. Katy, the mom is my spirit animal. She’s hysterical, down to earth, adores her children and for the most part is a regular hot mess mom. Love her! At the end of the episode I was watching she said, “Some days, as a Mom everything goes wrong and you just can’t take another second. But, all it takes is one good moment to erase the ten million crappy ones.” These crappy moments that she references can be defined in so many different ways by all the momma’s out there. It could be a sleepless night, a whiny-fussy toddler, a picky eater. Or when the kids get older it could mean a disrespectful and ungrateful adolescent. For me, at this period of my Mommyhood these crappy moments are filled with literal crap. My crappy moments seem to be surrounded by liquids, solids and semi-solids that come spewing out of my little angel.
Holy crap in a basket, folks! It boggles my mind how much vomit, boogies, and number two’s I have touched, wiped, and have found hours later somewhere on my body. Going through the day taking in small whiffs here and there of something icky and gross that somehow made its way onto my outfit, hair or worse – under my nails, Eek! Why, oh why is being a mother so unbelievably disgusting? From the moment they are busting through your lady parts to the moments you are wiping their hiney’s, picking their noses, and elbow deep in their vomit you are drowning in truck loads of yuck. Can we all agree that it’s absolutely disgusting wearing the Mommy crown sometimes? Eighteen months into this and I’m afraid I’ve almost become immune to all the bodily functions and liquids that come out of my kid. Is that normal? Is it normal to be unbothered by the smell of vomit? Whose to say?
However, can we also all agree or agree to disagree that being a Mother is the most rewarding and amazing job you have ever had? All I know is that when I look at my adorable little girl all I feel is an overwhelming amount of love, pride and immeasurable joy. I live to scrub her down after she’s vomited all over herself, I make a game out of searching and wiping her boogies, and I’m addicted to smelling her chubby, stinky, little toes at the end of the day. “Are these cheese feet?” I ask her. “Your feet smell like Cheetos, goat cheese and gouda baby girl. Phew!” Then I put her feet up to her nose and make her smell them, and she just laughs and laughs. It’s absolutely the strangest and most adorable thing we do. Inevitably, these boogie hunting and foot sniffing days are numbered. One day she’ll be picking and blowing her own nose, and hopefully making sure her feet don’t smell like Cheetos.
Besides the newfound constant whining, I’m so in love with everything that has to do with that little chunker. Her unkempt hair, the way she walks and pumps one arm faster than the other, the way she loves to cuddle and watch her stories in the morning while she sips on her milk and eats a graham cracker. The way she gives hugs, and her smile… her smile is everything. Somehow, we mothers are built to withstand the deadliest smells, all while dealing with little to no sleep, insurmountable defiance from the being you gave life to, and the patience to read the same book and sing the same songs a million times in one day. All of that and we are all still so incredibly in love, and all it takes is one moment of sweetness, silliness or just a giggle and you realize that she’s got you wrapped around her finger. Just this past week my patience was tested to its absolute max. Third morning after coming home from vacation I had woken up early and had so much time to kill before work and daycare drop off that I was sitting on the couch with my angel watching some Sesame Street. I had my coffee, five books piled on my lap, and my number one girl cradled under my arm next to me. Life was grand. Fast forward to 100 yards from the entrance of daycare drop off…
As I rounded the last curve before school I hear the sound that all mothers dread. The gagging that is the precursor to the sound of vomit splatting all over the back seat of your car. It was a spectacular musical of the most horrific bodily sounds, that surprisingly ended in silence. There were no cries and there were no screams. Just the sound of my vehicle quickly making a u-turn to head back to the house. Before I had even completed the u-turn the aroma of toddler up-chuck hit my nose. I called my husband on the way back to come out and help me, but he failed to answer his phone because he was on a conference call. I then texted him and told him that I was pulling into the garage and that I needed his immediate assistance. He approached my vehicle in a hurry and visibly annoyed until I yelled out, “She just threw up all over herself!” By the time we both made it to her side of the car she was sitting there, not a care in the world, then she looked at us and said, “Mess!” over and over again. Yes, baby girl. BIG Mess. It took two adults almost two hours to get her out of the car, bathed, dressed, fed (because we were going to be late for school breakfast), and the carseat as hosed down and usable as possible. To top it off, before I was even finished wiping down my back seat she had had a blow out, that thankfully my husband cleaned up. It’s insane how much ickiness can come out of these tiny little humans all within a couple of hours. By the time I dropped her off I was in a full sweat, annoyed, and the smell of vomit followed me the remainder of the day. It was such a rough start to the day, I had a permanent scowl on my face. All I wanted to do was take a shower, at a resort, on an island, far far away. Then, a little after lunch time I get an e-mail from her teacher. It was everything that this smelly and annoyed Mommy needed to see. It was a beaming, smiling photo of our little regurgitator. She was so happy, clean, and looked like she was having an absolute blast at school. Seeing her smiling face erased all the moodiness and Bitter Betsy right out of my system. Now, I just couldn’t wait for the day to be over so I could give her a squeeze, and make her smell her cheese feet after a long day.
It’s completely illogical, irrational, and insane how much love I have in my heart and soul for that little girl. There are days that I could just punch her right in the throat (I never would) and then she looks up at me with that beautiful, mischievous little smile and my sorrows and worries melt away. I may never look my “best” again, I may always have a hint of ickiness on my shirt or in my hair, and God knows I’ll never feel clean again, but mother of all that is good and holy do I absolutely adore that little girl. Vomit, Boogies, number two’s and all, I’m the luckiest mommy on the planet. This is the hardest job I will ever have, and on some days I most definitely want to cry on the floor of my closet alone, but all it takes is one moment. “…One moment to erase the ten million crappy ones.” Here’s to all the hot mess momma’s out there, just trying to make it through the day without getting vomit, boogies, and number two’s on your hand. Don’t worry, that one moment is just around the corner.