My sister majored in Biology in college -- good for her. I took Biology in high school, but that's about as much as I could muster. I just can't stand learning about cells, and creatures, and bodily functions........ Blech. (I feel a little gaggy just thinking about it.)
Anyway, back when I found out I was pregnant, there were a lot of things happening to my body that I felt it important to educate myself about. All of a sudden, I'm reading books that go into very specific detail about very specific bodily functions. And there are pictures, sometimes photos, in these books that are very graphic. And I just take it all in stride.
As Jason and I discussed many times during my pregnancy, sometimes there is just no other way to describe a pussing, oozing, infected wound than to use those exact words. And at some point I'm going to have an injured child at the doctor's office and we'll be speaking in these very terms. (And yes, I would cringe every time we had that discussion.) Jason said that part of having a child is having to deal with the gross stuff along with the cutesy stuff. Yes, he is correct.
When I used to think about my birth experience, I always imagined that I would deliver the baby, they would take it away and clean it up, and then I would have my moment with our sparkling new baby. Funny how something like a little amniotic fluid (among other random dirtiness) can seem so disgusting one second, and the very next second you're kissing and caressing your dirty, slimy newborn. I think that's when things changed for me.
I realized that 1) maybe it's really not quite as disgusting as I imagined (often, I think this is true -- the perceived grossness far outweighs the actual grossness), 2) if I'm going to manage taking care of an infant (most of the day, alone), I'll just have to be okay with vomit, poop, and the like, and 3) it's okay if there are still things that make my stomach churn -- that's when I call on Jason to handle the situation!
Anyway, back to what this post was supposed to be about...
I thought I'd share a random sampling of colorful phrases that have worked their way into my daily dialogue. I honestly never thought I'd hear myself speak some of these things...at least not so frequently and with way less gagging than I ever thought possible. Enjoy.
"Yay for poopies!" -- Seriously? I'm actually applauding defecation? You betcha! When I see what the strain of pooping sometimes does to poor Everett, I am dancing for joy when he finally fills that diaper!
"Wow, Everett, you have lots of boogies in your nose!" -- Okay, so maybe boogers aren't all that disgusting, but I just never thought I would so freely comment on the quantity and or consistency of said boogers. (And it is totally okay to make yucky things seem more tolerable by calling them something semi-cutesy...like "boogies".)
"That's okay. Mommy doesn't mind the spit-up." -- Sometimes it's just a little...and sometimes it's a lot. A lot. But really, if I freaked out every time Everett launched regurgitated breastmilk at me, just think how freaked out he would be! It's important to maintain composure...even with spit-up running down your arm (and neck, and back, and in your hair).
"Blah, blah, blah...mucous plug...blah, blah, blah...bloody show...blah, blah, blah...placenta..." -- Sorry, I know those phrases might be a little too yucky for some of you. Don't worry, I'm not going to start describing them. If you're really curious, look them up. These choice phrases come out when I'm telling my birth story. Sure I lower the volume of my voice slightly when uttering these words (after all, who wants to be sipping a latte at a coffee shop and overhear THAT?!), but I don't even flinch with disgust anymore! Go me!
"grainy", "liquid-y", "yellow", "greenish", "sticky", "stinky", etc., etc. -- Three guesses what these words have been used to describe.
And one of my personal favorites:
"Hey, Babe, can you come watch the baby for a sec? I gotta wash the poop off my fingers." -- I don't care how many diapers you've changed, or how good at it you think you are, at some point you are just going to end up with poop on your hands. The mere idea of this used to give me the chills. ("Oh. My. Goodness. Poop ON me...?!") But now I'm not really phased. It does wash off, people.
I imagine that my Mommy-dialogue will become more entertaining over time. I only hope I never lose my sense of humor about these things. :)
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