Friday, November 15, 2013

Motherhood is Powerful



As a mother I have dealt with so many fearful disgusting messes, I've developed an immunity to gross. In my younger years touching nasty stuff would send me yipping and hopping and shaking my hands around like some sort of weird yipping hopping hand shaking weird person.

But since I got the Motherhood, overreacting to gross shit is a thing of the past!

When my son was a baby he was a wild little guy. In order to make dinner and keep him alive I had to strap him to my back in a baby backpack. He'd quickly get bored sitting up there with nothing death defying to do, and so in an effort to amuse himself, he'd grab handfuls of my hair in his adorable sticky baby fists and pull back with all his might causing my head to jerk back suddenly; whiplash! Fun!

This was not a fun game for me.

One evening while attempting to make food for dinner with my energetic son on my back, out of desperation and in a misguided attempt at self preservation, I gave him a wooden spoon play with. Whatever he did to me with the spoon would be better than the hair pulling neck breaking game.

After several minutes my son grew tired of  the Channeling Keith Moon and Beating Mom's head Like a Drum game, and he came up with a new game called "how much spoon can I ram down my throat before I puke". He discovered the limits of his overdeveloped gag reflex on the first uvula tickling try and KerSploooshhh...vomit in my hair, vomit on my neck, warm wet vomity vomit running down the inside of my shirt.

I didn't have time for the vomit. The vomit was just going to have to wait for me. I had dinner to make.

I'd tell you some scary poop stories but I don't think you can handle it. Unless you're a parent, and then you already know what kind of stories I'm not telling you.

I'm so tough now, nothing can repulse me.

Other people's boogers? Oh yeah, I can do that, with my bare hands. I can pick moldy viscous rotten produce from the depths of the vegetable crisper, with my bare hands. I can reach into the toilet bowl to retrieve toilet spelunking hairbrushes, with my bare hands. I can pull mysterious foul smelling crud off the dog's tail, with my bare hands. I can remove the dog's giant gummy eye slugs with my bare hands. Vomit spewing forth from a sick child's mouth? I can catch it before it hits the rug, with my bare hands. I can even pluck up rogue cat shit balls, with. my. bare. hands.

I'm WonderMotherFuckingWoman, and I can touch icky crap.







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