My Most Disgusting Moment as a Mother... Yet
It happened one bright, sunshiny morning last week; I was in high gear, working to get everyone out the door and into the van and on the way to school by 7:40 a.m. This is no easy task when you have three children under 5. I was doing my fair share of throwing around orders:

"Eve... shoes on!"

"Are your teeth brushed?!"

"Judah! EAT, pleeeease."

I went to get Eliza out of her bed; usually getting her up is my last thing to accomplish before loading up the van with little bodies, a backpack, and some sort of small plastic wild animal that growls loudly at me from a chubby boy hand.

This particular morning Eliza had a precious gift for me in her diaper. I had no idea of what magnitude, though. Which, in hindsight, was very unfortunate.

I shoo-ed Judah down to get his shoes on, in my head willing him to get them on the correct feet (Please, God). I laid Eliza down and unsnapped her pj's; I grabbed a couple of wipes out of the box so I could be ready...

Sometimes, two wipes just won't cut the mustard. This was one of those times. "It" (I hate the "P" word. Sorry, you'll have to be okay with "it") was everywhere. And I mean EVERYWHERE.

I don't know why this sort of thing can't happen on a morning when I have it all together and things are running like a well-oiled machine! Oh, right, because that never happens!! There's always something, isn't there?

I panicked a little after seeing what I was going to have to overcome in the booty cleaning department. I grabbed some more wipes and as I did Eliza (my first child to do this) put her hand in "it!" I gasped and said "NO! Lize!" The child smiled at me. I'm holding the bottom half of her body up so the top half doesn't get covered, I'm holding wipes in the other had, so I'm pretty much helpless. And then she does the unthinkable...

She stuck her hand IN HER MOUTH!

Oh, yes she did.

I yelled "NO! That's NOT food! Well, actually it is but NOT THAT KIND OF FOOD!"

At that point my priorities shifted greatly. It was get that mouth and those hands clean RIGHT NOW.

Which I did, somehow.

My friends, it was ugly. I don't know how I did it without getting "it" everywhere that "it" already wasn't. Sometimes (more like daily) I wonder why mothers can't have a third arm, because I know for a fact I could really use one.

We mothers, we're good, aren't we! We are the ones that OVERCOME great odds!

Sorry for the ick factor. Life stuff, remember?

*Post from 1 year ago today: A Recipe is Forthcoming

(includes a link to my "perfect for staving off the stomach bug" smoothie recipe)
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