Moo moo

I haven't been writing as much lately. My brain is consumed with the last weeks of pregnancy so it's hard for any other thoughts to escape the black hole atop my head. While in this mommy-brained state I have noticed a few things.
I noticed how the little things that change within you after having children are the things that really make you a "Mom". I swore I would never spit on my finger then wipe it on another human being's face. Well, I do it almost daily to poor Turner. When did this happen? I was boycotting Mother Nature's 409 not that long ago wasn't I?
If I am walking through the house and notice a Tums on the floor I pick it up. Tums are scattered through out my house, I have containers in the bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, and living room. The placement of these in every room is a testament of my my heartburn and of the laziness that comes with being eight and half months pregnant. So while taking three Tums six or seven times a day a few fall and roll out of sight. These aren't toxic so I don't go ape and crawl around to find them. Once they are tired of a life spent hiding while on the lamb they show themselves. Like I said, I pick them up. Do I throw them away? Nope, just pop them in my mouth without a second thought. Sick, I know. I would never have eaten something that had been hiding under the edge of the couch for a few days pre-Turner. But now I figure it saves a trip to the trash can and postpones the heartburn for a minute or two.
Brad isn't wild about sharing his drinks with Turner, the back-wash factor and all. I am so used to it that we share everything. I have just devised a system to keep the backwash to a minimum. I always drink from straws. So I let him drink from my straw too. I just pull it away before he is quiet ready for me to. That way(or so goes my theory) there is still suction to keep all his spitty crumbs in his mouth and out of my drink. I must say it works pretty well.
Other gross mindless habits include eating food off of my son's shirt. Like a monkey I will pick something that has fallen short of Turner's mouth, landed on his shirt and eat it. Another tactic to keep me from having to get up and get a napkin or make a trip to the garbage can. Now I am not a great ape so the food findings must meet certain criteria. It must be just dropped, something tasty, and free of copious amounts of slobber. I am not an animal, I have my standards.
Like all mothers I have broken through my little aversion to bodily functions and fluids. When Turner was a little baby and still nursing we were playing on the floor and he started to burp and gag. I knew spit up was about half a second from spewing across the room. The burp cloth was no where in sight so I just pulled out the tale of my shirt and let him puke in that. Completely gross, but I didn't have to clean the carpets, just go change my shirt. Score one for the quick thinking, all be it grody, mom.
If anyone thinks spit up is nasty they have not entered into the potty training stage of life. Thank goodness we are through with that. But while in the middle of house breaking Lil Monster I got to experience all the smells and textures of poop that I never wanted to be acquainted with, it's part of my job.
There are so many more strange, nasty, and odd habits that I have now that I am a mom. I wish my brain worked well enough to remember them and write them down. I want to have a list to give to my two little ones for when they have little ones of their own. A list of all the things you swore you'd never do, but some how you are doing them anyway. As my mother says " The cows always come home". She was oh so right, and they are mooing loudly all the way here.