I swore that I would never be the mom who let her children out looking like homeless kids. Ten short months ago, I snottily turned my nose up at the mother's whose children had grime on their clothes, dirt in their nails, and dried slime in their nose(s)... (almost rhymed... wanted to go with it.) I sadly thought I was being realistic, when I said "even if it is my FULL TIME job, I will keep my children, clean, pressed, and well-dressed." Ohhhh, what a change has taken place. My darling son seems to be perpetually covered in goop. Now that he can get around, he seems to find the items that will make the maximum amount of mess in the shortest amount of time. He is a busy boy, crawling from here to eternity, but I fear the worst once he walks and full-blown mobility sets in. Allow me to share an example, just this morning, as I was getting ready for church, He managed to crawl to a box where our post-cookout items were waiting to be put away, dug around, found the dorritos, and had a ball. Before I knew it, he was covered from ear to ear in a red-powdered grin. Mind you these were no pansy chips. They were the semi-new, Doritos Blazin Buffalo Ranch chips, which are delicious, but spicy. He sort of sneezed them out a bit once the true hotness set in, but he wasn't disinterested in finishing what seemed to be the enitre bag. I picked him up and we both just laughed.
So, here we are, the sweet picture of mother and son laughing together, but JJ seems to forget what follows. Jeremy summed it up perfectly the other night when he said, "It is like everytime we wipe his nose it breaks him totally down." I thought of that as we laughed the truth there. He honestly puts up such a fight to keep the mess on him (this for a boy who rarely cries or puts up a fuss for anything) that he seems absolutely broken. After he is clean for a rare few moments, he looks up at us through tear-glossed eyes as if asking "why?" It is funny, but sort of heartbreaking enough to make me not want to do it. I still do it though, becasue although my son may--at times-- appear to be neglected, dirty and disshoveled, some where in me is this burning need to keep him clean. Even though I have evolved, and know that children get dirty, and their clothes are bound to be filthy and unpressed, I am still that person who swore that she would never have messy kids and I foolishly try to keep that inward promise, whatever it may take... So, cry JJ... put up your fights. I will be the one hodling the washcloth.