motherhood: check your modesty and weak stomach at the door

this past week, as i instinctively cupped my hands in front of my 4-year-old's mouth as she vomited in the middle of a grocery store aisle, i was reminded that there's nothing a mother won't do for her children.

when I became pregnant with my first child, and then with my second, I quickly discovered that pregnancy isn't all butterfly flutters and glowing skin and a cute little basketball belly. it's cankles and face flab and gagging every time you stick your toothbrush in your mouth. it's breast pads in your bra to prevent mortifying accidents, and a doctor stitching parts of your body that you rather him not even see, much less stitch. but millions of women go through the 9 months of discomfort and embarrassment, many of us more than once in our lifetime, all for the sweet little miracle that it brings.

and then comes baby. ah, babies. sweet little bundles of joy with their soft skin and baby-smellling heads. and all too soon, babies grow into toddlers. and then into big kids. any mother will tell you that children, much like the joy of pregnancy and the miracle of birth, can be, well, kinda gross.

motherhood is definitely not for the faint of heart. looking back over the past 8 years, i'm amazed at the things i've managed to stomach. i've cleaned and cared for umbilical stumps. i have been puked and pooped on. i've eaten green pea baby food from a jar to convince a hesitant baby that it tastes delicious. i've wiped snotty noses and stinky bottoms. i've smelled the stench from a sippy cup found under the couch after being lost for a week. i've had half-eaten food spit out into my hand, and i've found half-eaten chicken nuggets in my purse. and i've withstood it all without thinking, without flinching, and without griping. ok, so maybe a little griping.

there are a multitude of books that tell you what to expect during pregnancy and throughout the first years of your child's life. but there are few, if any, that tell you the not-so-pleasant things that you REALLY need to know. like how humiliating all those prenatal doctor's visits really are. the necessity of carrying wet wipes at all times, if not to clean your own child then to clean the unidentifiable gunk from a walmart shopping cart seat. the insane amount of antibacterial hand gel and band-aids you'll purchase. and how after you've experienced it, no matter how gruesome it may be, you'd do it again, no questions asked. because once you've become a mom, there's not much you can't--or won't--handle!