Since we all know that my blog is “awesome” just the way it is, I think I will get back to my regularly scheduled programming after being FP’d.
First though, I have to say welcome new followers! I’m not sure what you guys will think about my rants on motherhood, and my constant complaining about being a certified germaphobe, but I hope you stick around. This little ole’ blog of mine is mostly about my kids, and my complaints, and my thoughts about being a Mom, but I adore having some new people lurking. Yet, my faithful few, I love you more than you know. Because without you, I may have given up this little blog of mine a few weeks ago.
So, my BFF since 5th grade called the other day. Oh how I wish she lived closer. I guess that’s MY fault for moving out of Texas. Anyway, we were talking about our mutual “issues” that we share being scared of germs, and she told me a story. It sent chills through my body. Nope, it wasn’t “scary” per se, but to me, it was terrifying. I LITERALLY got chills. What is wrong with me? Wait. Don’t answer that.
It was a story about this blog post she read where a little girl, barely big enough to sit on the toilet, was in a public restroom with her mom, and she LICKED. THE. TOILET. Yep. You know the part on public toilets where the seat comes together but there is still an opening? That part. She was bent over really far trying to keep her balance and just decided to take a taste. Chills, I tell you. Chills from a story about germs? That has never happened to me before, and it made me realize (yet again) that I really DO have a problem.
Why do kids have to lick stuff? Kyle and I were at the grocery store the other day when he promptly declared, “Mom. I touched something sticky” after he stuck his finger on one of the counters by the coffee machine. I started in on my daily lecture of, “That is why mommy is telling you all the time to STOP touching things when you don’t know what it is….blah blah blah, blah blah.” I don’t think he was listening because he quickly responded, “It tastes yucky!” as I looked down and to my horror, he was licking his finger.
I swear, Avery never did stuff like this. EVER. It must be a boy thing? Or maybe it’s just that I have too many dang kids now to keep track of who is licking what at any given time. However, I did let it slide once and let her eat cheerios off the floor. I can “let go” sometimes.
The thing is, it’s like they have this inherent ability to help me avoid therapy by desensitizing me to gross, disgusting things. Like yesterday, Chandler decided to set up shop in the bathroom. Of all the places to play in this 2000 sq. ft. house (that’s just a guess, I’m not good with math), he chose the bathroom.
Thank goodness that this was taken with my poor quality iPod camera so that you can’t see the filth that is currently my bathroom. Yet, he has been in here long enough to bring his cars (in the background by the toilet), his blanket, and get into all his sisters hair clippies. Promptly after this photo was taken, he set his pacifier down on the floor. *shudder*
My children are saving me thousands of dollars in therapy. One nasty, disgusting act at a time.