Entry FeedBecoming a mom means that you have to leave squeamishness behind. Without producing a complete list of the bodily fluids (and solids) that we often have to deal with, I am no longer revolted at the thought of changing a diaper or ministering to a vomiting child.
But it doesn't mean I enjoy it.
Daughter is going through some kind of phase. Take an adorable little girl who has been toilet trained for a while, and suddenly she is having too much fun to make it to the bathroom on time. Last night I actually got woken up by her crying, and while carrying her to the washroom, I got peed on. I, in turn, woke up Husband because I just didn't want to deal with it alone. Misery loves company.
Where in the mother's handbook does it say that we get peed on?
Son One, frat boy in the making, actually "partied-til-he-puked" a few weeks ago. Gee, he didn't know that it wasn't a good idea to run around, eat three pieces of pizza, run around some more and then guzzle half a litre of cold water? I was backing out of the driveway after the birthday party when he started vomiting. All. Over. My. Minivan.
I also think that at least one of the males in my house, not naming any names, has a real aim problem, if you know what I mean. One mother told me that she still makes her 12 year old sit down to pee. I don't know. I think my boys are so thrilled with being able to pee standing up, and it is one of the greatest things about being a boy, how could I crush that?
Clorox wipes are becoming my new best friends, as I clean up after snotty, peeing, vomiting children. They actually have a new purple one that is lavender scented that is particularly nice. I have one container in each bathroom, and I am trying to convince the children to wipe up after themselves...