6 Repulsive Things We Do For Love

Before you had kids you would heave when you had to tidy the cat litter tray, or pick up your puppies poo. Any tiny stain on the couch would be cleaned within an inch of it's life. And bodily fluids? Were NOT allowed on clothes. These were the rules. Life was clean. Then a teeny tiny human comes along. And overwhelming love makes your standards drop. In fact? Standards fly out the window...taking your dignity with it.

So. Much. Sh*t
I've had friends who have gone to work with a bit of baby poo on their trousers. I've been out and noticed a bit under my nails. Yesterday? Before my girl asked me to wipe her bum I saw her admiring her own poo stained bum in the mirror. Did I vom and go "THAT'S DISGUSTING!". Nope I said "pass me a baby wipe bab".

Wee Stained House
Pretty much every piece of furniture, every rug, every carpet in every room. Has been weed on. Without exception. I used to reason that baby wee wasn't like real wee it was virtually like water. And when my son weed in my face (a daily occurrence for the first six months) it was innocent. Cute even! Then when the toddler potty training wee begins? And their wee smells like wee, looks like wee and is wee? I continued the mantra that it was just water. And brought LOTS of Fabreeze.

We go through life being told not to pick our nose. We know it's not right. It's gross isn't it? Yet...when I see my son has the MOTHER of all bogies, appearing to block up a whole right nostril? I HAVE to get the bad boy out. It's weirdly quite therapeutic. And I feel a real sense of achievement! (I need a hobby).

Food in Hand
Sometimes you give your child some food. They start to chew and it dawns on them? They hate it. You see that look in their eyes. The look of panic. They look of "what the hell do I do?". So you kindly offer out your hand and watch them spew the whole gobful into it. You then realise you are in the middle of a shopping centre and have to dispose of it. Luckily you are adept at the 'removing a baby wiped from the packet with one hand' trick.

What's Yours Is Mine
Hands up who has absently finished off a child's meal whilst they wash up as it would be a waste? Or has walked through the living room and spotted a rogue Smartie on the floor so you pop it in your mouth? Or the lowest of the low. When stood there with a handful of chewed up food, and no wipes, and nowhere to put it...bar your own mouth? We've all swallowed a half chewed wotsit or a spit covered nugget. No?

My Hand Is Your Tissue
It's that season of snot. And generally when I am walking with my two on the school run one, or both will have snot running down their nose I either a) use the bottom of my coat to wipe it or b) my hand. Yep. My hand. My hand is a tissue. Why I simple don't shove some tissues in my pocket? I do not know.

There's probably loads of other things I do that are so disgusting I have repressed them. I know I love smelling their sweaty feet and have been known to kiss a bare bum. But one day? When I am old and grey it will be their turn to clean up my bodily fluids so really? It's a fair exchange.
© brummymummyof2 | All rights reserved.
Blog Design Handcrafted by pipdig