What Success Means To Me

Did you ever have to write that essay in school about What Success Means to You?  I think we all had to write that.  I'm not going to write about success today.  Today I am going to write about what "Gross" means to me.  What I realized from motherhood is that my definition of "gross"-- much like one's definition of success-- has changed significantly over time.  Specifically in the past 8 months.  No, make that the last 17 months.

The thing is, I don't know what is actually gross anymore.  Its really hard to gross me out these days.  Ok moldy food will still do it every time, but I realized that since pregnancy began and AJ was born, there is really very little that makes me say "ew".

Here are some things that I cannot believe I now find even marginally acceptable:

• When I leave the house to run an errand and realize I have a spit up stain on my shoulder.  
• And then keep going.
• Wiping drool off of AJs chin/face/hands/clothes with my bare hands
• And then wiping it on my clothes
• Literally picking the boogers out of his nose when there is a crusty one stuck to the edge
• Describing "crusty boogers" stuck to the edge of a nose
• The very many--and precise-- adjectives I use to describe poop. 
• In public
• Not necessarily using my inside voice
• The long drip of milk that has dried on AJs wall next to his glider that I keep forgetting to wash off.

These things are just part of life now, and I can't not smile at them.  And aside from my clothes not looking so pristine, and the fact that you may not want to shake my hand anymore, I guess I figure, he is a baby, how yucky can his stuff really be? Some day he will be move into real boyhood, with dirt and worms and smelly [insert sport here] gear.  And then I think I will have a new definition of gross once again.