I love being a Mama. It is a decision I will never regret. I live for the smiles, laughter, sweet kisses, warm hugs, and every other special moment that comes in between. Yet, there are a few things that no book on parenting or any well meaning advice can prepare you for. This week I have encountered one of those "things," I have discovered that when a child is sick that one or both of the parents take on the visage of a human Kleenex. I had my suspicions early on about this when I was a teacher, but these suspicions have become confirmed fact now that I have my own child.
This week I have been sneezed on, coughed on, snotted on, drooled on, and cried on. Countless shirts and pants have been besieged upon by the Mucous Army. I feel like a walking Tide commercial. My hair has not even escaped the onslaught of snot. Nothing screams louder, "I have a sick child", than finding a glob of snot in your hair. I feel like slimer has come to live in my house, and unfortunately this small slimer needs some TLC, so I can't use my proton blaster. My only line of defense is saline dipped wipes, a dish towel, a snot sucker, and copious amounts of hand sanitizer. I am amazed at the amount of mucous that a 24 pound toddler can make! I mean where is it coming from?! Is he made out of it? Does he have a super duper snot bug?!
My starring role as the human Kleenex will either make me fall prey to this wonderful virus, or I will come out with pumped up, COSMIC antibodies. The thing is, if I get sick, who takes care of Mama? I cannot get sick...so come on phenomenal cosmic antibodies!
Although, I have to admit that even during this incredibly real parenting moment, there is always a silver lining. It is the moment when my son wraps his arms around my neck and says "Lub, Lub Mah ma". It is at this very moment that I forget I have been slimed once again, all I feel is loved. I guess that's what loving a child is all about, you forget all the bad stuff, and revel in the sweet fleeting moments. And at the end of the day, all of that snotty slime washes away; but what doesn't wash away is the knowledge that my son loves and needs me.