A Confession: The Gross Stuff I Love About Motherhood

Let’s take a candid look at the more revolting aspects of being a mother.

Most people who know me would describe me as the ‘rose tinted spectacles‘ type, who tries to find the positive in everything, even the most dire/upsetting/disgusting things. I think It’s vital that we try to see the upsides of even the most draining, boring tasks to keep us sane!

Motherhood is full of trials and tribulations, It’s such a rough (but rewarding) ride so to keep me going, I try to find the positive in each and every aspect…

Even in the yucky side of being a parent!

Admit it! Embrace your inner freak! These things are so bloody satisfying! Feel free to comment with your own confessions…

A poonami after constipation

After days of grunting, groaning, wailing and generally being a monster due to a backed up bowel, there’s nothing more satisfying to me (and baby) than a massive shitty nappy. The smellier and gnarlier, the better.

Up the back? GOAL! Well done, son!

Aaaaand in the bath you go. I love an excuse to have a bubble bath with Max, so it’s a win-win situation!

I also find it really satisfying turning a filthy little peachy bum into a squeaky clean behind with baby wipes; is that really weird? Stupid question, really. Becoming a mother has instilled a love of cleaning in me, and I love cleaning up after a deuce.

Big wet burps

Max is a seriously windy kiddo, sometimes we can actually feel the pockets of wind trapped in his diaphragm – it causes him major discomfort!

Is it weird that me and Toby cheer in delight and pride when Max unleashes a monster burp (often followed by a round of vomit)?

Maybe. But we don’t care.

In some cultures, it’s considered etiquette to belch after a meal. In our house, it’s just standard…

Baby farts

Trapped wind brings Max the worst agony, we’ve almost taken him to hospital on a few occasions until he’s FINALLY let rip! In this house, we love farts. A farty bum is a clear bum, so trump away, my prince!

I’ll never forget the first night we had Max home. I was easing myself into bed (I had an emergency caesarean), facing away from Toby who was holding Max.

The next thing I hear is the loudest, proudest, honking fart I’ve ever heard! Around I look, about to admonish Toby, when he proceeds to inform me, as astonished as me, that our newborn son did that fart.

Boys, eh!

Picking bogies

Excuse me while I gip…

I have a bizarre, irrational phobia of bogies, to the point that this section is actually really hard for me to write.

I can just about tolerate my own, but I gag and chunder if someone even pretends to pick their nose around me, let alone actually does it… or eats it (GAGGING). God help me if Max discovers his nasal treasure trove (BORK).

However, I can actually bear Max’s boogers. I find it so satisfying to help clear his little nose when it’s crusty and blocked, and I find myself bizarrely proud of the massive bogies he produces.

Also, HOW DO BABIES MAKE SUCH ENORMOUS BOGIES!?!?

Answers on a postcard, please.

Being used as a human teething aid

I’ve spent a small fortune on teething toys for Max. I mean, he does like them, but nothing compares to my flesh, apparently.

Sometimes, I can be holding him face to face, just chilling, and then WHAM. He’s clamped his maw onto my face like a rabid beast! He reaaaally likes to chew on my chin. Just the right amount of firmness, but also soft and chewy. Yummo.

And you know what… I love that he’s chosen me as his designated chomp toy!

Baby chunder

Yeah, it’s not nice, smells awful and a bugger to clean up. But it means that Max is likely feeling more comfortable, so meh. Puke away. It’s also an excuse to fill a mop bucket with hot water and bleach (oooooft), and clean my floors. Cheers, kid!

I swear he’s my biggest motivation to clean my house… coercion via bodily fluids!

Flaky cradle cap

(Don’t pick at it – it can cause infections!)

I love pulling the loose, dry flakes out of Max’s hair; they seem to cause him terrible itching. I never pick at his scalp, but IT’S SOOOO TEMPTING.

Washing empty bottles

Formula bottles (and presumably breastmilk bottles) stink something chronic if left unwashed even for like, an hour.

Max is on Nutramigen, which smells beyond revolting freshly made, let alone left to fester.

It’s so cathartic to fill a sink full of hot, soapy water, scrub them clean, and sterilise them. I even stand and stare in pride at my collection of clean bottles.

Fresh, sparkly, and ready to get filthy again within hours…

Finding food in random places

Sometimes, I’ll find half a carrot and coriander Organix stick in a sock, or vegetable mush in an armpit. I’ve even found a chunk of sweet potato behind his ear once!

I myself get completely and utterly covered in his food, it even gets in my hair when he decides to shove his hand in his full mouth, and then grab my hair like he’s playing tug-of-war.

Weaning is generally messy business, and mess means FUN! If mess means that we find food in random places on his body in the process of having a good time, then that’s pretty cool with me.

To conclude…

I find that I cope better with difficult situations by finding joy even in the most bizarre places.

Love those shitty nappies. Relish those smelly burps. Enjoy those farts. Take pleasure in making your baby more comfortable by removing crusty bogies.

They’re not young forever, and you’ll be glad that you have made so many fond, positive memories.

Enjoy your beautiful babies; even when they’re yucky!