Out of the Mouths (and Other Orifices) of Babes

The other night, while hurtling down the interstate at 70 miles per hour, I heard my precious toddler say to me from the back seat, "Here, mom." I knew her hand was groping forward in the darkness, with a special gift just for me. Sometimes in these situations I get stuffed animals to keep me company, pictures my adoring children have drawn for me, an offer just to hold my hand. Awww....

Of course, as much as I like to focus on the precious moments of parenting, I must admit that more often than not I am being handed trash, unwanted food, bits of miscellanea dug from the depths of a car seat, used Kleenexes, etc... But this time, it was even better. This time, the gift my two-year-old handed me was a booger. It took me a second to figure it out. I fumbled in the dark, trying to find the tiny little 'nugget' in her hand. Once I got it up front with me, I felt it carefully.  A lost tooth? Bit of food? Hmmm... round, smooth...Is this... is thisss.....? I couldn't help it. I found myself actually saying aloud, "Honey, is this a boogie?" To which she happily replied, "Yets, mommy." Hmmm... I thought so.

There was a time (not that long ago, believe it or not) when the idea of being handed a booger would have been enough to dampen my spirits, to say the least. Truthfully, however, it hardly even blips my radar these days.  It's not that boogers aren't gross, but they don't even rank in the top three anymore of nasty stuff I've handled. Who am I kidding with the past tense there? Really, it's nasty stuff I handle almost every day.

Case in point - my youngest is working on potty training. Tonight she sat on the potty for 2 hours straight. I, of course, had to sit with her. (Those of you who aren't parents might think that I am complaining. Actually, I was overjoyed to have spent my evening perched on the edge of the tub. Each moment she sits on the toilet gets us one step farther away from diapers, which is where much of the yuckiness that I must touch originates.)

Anyway, we successfully made pee pee in the potty (yeah!), but it came at a price. In order to not fall in, she had to lean all of her weight on the heels of her hands, which she had rested on the toilet seat. Periodically (anywhere from every 2 to 5 minutes) I was asked to kiss her owie hands. Though I resisted as long as possible, it became clear that this was becoming a stumbling block to achieving our ultimate potty goals. So, I did it. I puckered up and kissed, essentially, the butt of every person in  my home. And you thought boogers were bad.

But how could any rational person do that? It's nasty. It's gross. It's unsanitary. Yep, it sure is. But, parenthood is all about taking risks to improve your odds. You don't survive this game without nerves of steel and an immune system to match. I've been in training for so long that I've got my game face on, and nothing is going to stop me this close to the goal. (Besides, since I do the housework I know the toilet got cleaned a mere 24 hours earlier, and I didn't really make contact with her hand. Jeesh...That would be disgusting.)

I am hoping that at some point in the future I will gradually stop having to handle such things as boogers and diapers and toilet seat hands. God willing, barring a career change into nursing or wastewater treatment, I will eventually stop having to deal with anyone's bodily functions but my own. Until then, I will continue to willingly reach back when someone says, "here, mom" from the back seat. Be it bottles or boogers, toys or trash, valentines or vomit (and I am sooooooo not making that last one up), I am always willing to lend a helping hand. After all, I've already kissed my pride good bye, and watched my overinflated sense of self importance be flushed down the toilet. What more could I possible have to fear?