My arms are covered in rancid smelling toddler spit. My face still has remnants of all of the snot my toddler sneezed on me. On the floor by my feet was just a vomitted chunk of goey *something.* On the footstool by the computer was diarrhea. That's right. Diarrhea. We're averaging four overflowing with poop diapers a day in my house. About three outfits covered in pee per day and another three smeared with poop. My car smells like rotted baby formula. In my closest we just found a molded-into-the-carpet fruit of some kind. (I am not the one who eats fruit in the closest, by the way.) And then there's all the arm pit sweat. Mine, not theirs. Running around and cleaning up their disgustingness is a sweaty business.
They tell you that motherhood is about joy and love and blah, blah.
The truth is, it's about disgusting smelly body fluids. All day, every day until you drown in them.
The Beautiful Life of Nora Pepper
1 day ago