(If you have a weak stomach, skip to the next entry. I won’t mind…really.)
(Still here? Okay, but don’t say that I didn’t warn you.)
Being a parent is hard work, and it isn’t always pretty. This is especially the case when a child is potty training or sick. I’ve been pooped on, peed on, vomited on, snotted on…the list goes on and on.
In fact, at this moment, my daughter and I are both fighting raging colds. She’s asleep, thank goodness, but I’m not. You see, my throat is irritated with the rest of my body, and until the ibuprofen kicks in, I’m up drinking hot tea and wishing that I had a less wimpy immune system.
My daughter hasn’t figured out blowing her nose yet, which adds to the risk of catching whatever delightful bug she brings home from school. She tries, but she often forgets that a tissue is what she should blow into, and she often comes to me with a hand full of mucus.
Like I said, G is for Gross. It takes a special kind of love to take care of a sick child. I applaud every parent who is able to do so without headdesking or crying into his or her juicebox.