A Boogie Wipe State of Mind

The cold bug has hit the Jorgensen home yet again, which means I'm finding myself floating in and out home and work this week, attempting to be in two places at once, yet doing everything in this sort of foggy state - the kind where you know the clear is in sight and it's just a matter of hitting the gas and riding it through.

Because after all, life is a highway, right?

When Cruz is sick, my mom-guard kicks into turbo gear.  I watch him closer, hug him tighter, and love him stronger, because really, that's about all you can do when your baby's fighting a cold.  Love and a whole lot of Vicks, I guess.

And in between the frequent cuddles and tender moments this week, the Cruz Man has been giving us a few reminders that the terrible twos aren't too far away.  I keep reminding myself that he doesn't feel good, that the constant snot, slobber, and cough are enough to make anyone a little reckless and a little defiant.  So, let's just say I've let a few things slide this week and done my best to keep my little guy tear-free.  Because tears=more snot, and Lord knows we've got our fair share of that around here.

THE LENGTHS I'VE GONE TO IN ORDER TO MAKE CRUZ HAPPY THIS WEEK...

...After two days of struggling to get Cruz to eat anything, I was finally able to get him to eat some yogurt tonight.  This involved a process of me sticking the end of the spoon in my mouth, and doing a sort-of airplane glide (with sound effects) until the front of the yogurt-filled spoon hit his mouth.  I know it sounds weird, but it worked, and I even scored some laughs from my nugget.  

While getting Cruz's bath ready tonight, I casually ignored the fact that he was using his finger and my conditioner to paint a picture on the toilet lid...

...and I didn't get upset when he 'accidentally' threw a half-filled cup of sudsy water onto the bathroom floor, followed by EVERY TOY IN HIS BATHTUB!

I crossed my legs the other way when I noticed a snot stain on my dress pants during my meeting this afternoon...

...and although mortified, turned my sleeve the other way after noticing how disgusting it was when handing my debit card to the cashier at Hobby Lobby last night.

I've decided it's perfectly fine to let your child help you unload the dishwasher in nothing but his birthday suit...  

...and okay that a Little Debbie Snack Cake followed Cruz's yogurt for supper tonight...

...and that crackers and cheese on the living room carpet before bed was perfectly acceptable....

...and that sometimes, you just gotta let your baby sit by the kitchen sink and repeatedly suck water from his toothbrush for a half hour simply because he was content.

There is nothing glamorous about parenting.  It's raw, it's real, and sometimes, it's rather disgusting.  But somewhere in between the Boogie Wipes, the upturned sippy cup leaking in the corner of the living room, and that sticky-something on the bedroom floor, there's a beauty in parenting that is nearly impossible to put into words.  

Because tonight, after the third vapor-bath in a row, a freshly lotioned baby, and a smudge of vaseline to his little nose, the two of us snuggled together in a still and quiet house with a soft white blanket and exactly three books.  After two rounds of whispering the words to 'The Wheels on the Bus,' and 'I Love You As Much,' I could hear his little breaths get deeper and could see his eyelids get heavier.  I set the books on the table next to me, turned his little body toward mine, and closed my eyes. 

There we rocked, together in that chair, and nothing else mattered in the world.