Motherhood can make you kind of crazy. But the thing is, you feel totally justified in that craziness. Years later, you’ll probably look back and say “Did I really… what was I thinking?!” but in the moment, cain’t nobody talk sense into you. What you’re doing is TOTALLY normal, never mind if everyone else is giving you side glances and wondering if you’ve lost your marbles.
Mama, you OWN that craziness. Just like I owned mine…
The Lysol Incident
Yea yea, germs are good, build your kids’ immunity, and all that. Tell me what mom of a new baby actually buys that? Not this one. Call me crazy (oh wait, I already admitted to that), but I’d rather not put my kids’ germ fighting abilities to the test.
So then there was that time I dropped my son’s paci on the floor at church…and FREAKED OUT. We obviously couldn’t make the car ride home without a paci (all 15 minutes of it), but I obviously couldn’t give him a pacifier that had fallen on the floor…he might catch the Spanish Flu or something! I know! There’s Lysol in the bathroom. I’ll just spray it with that. Oh my gosh, I just sprayed my son’s paci with Lysol, what was I thinking? I don’t even use Lysol in my house! Anyone have an unopened, newborn sized, orthodontic paci I could have? No? It’s going to be a long ride home….
My son started crawling early…like before he could even sit up. You might be saying to yourself “Alright buddy, way to be ahead of the curve!” Stop that nonsense. Crawling means being on the floor (I tried to only let him crawl on elevated surfaces, ahem, that didn’t work out so well) and being on the floor means germs. Germs people, GERMS.
Since exclusive bed-crawling wasn’t going to happen, I got a special little “floor crawling blanket” (I like to think it was infused with magical germ repelling properties). But if so much as one toe ventured off the blanket? HOT LAVA! Mama helicopter (oh, that’s another term I “own”) coming in for the rescue! Whew, that was a close call…he almost caught that Spanish Flu again.
By now you’re thinking, “Well, how long does she think she can restrict a curious baby to a 4’x 3′ blanket?” Don’t worry guys, turns out blankets come in lots of different sizes. I just bought a bigger blanket!
Is my baby drunk?
Then there was the time I thought my baby was going to get drunk. One day, I was out with my son when he touched something I thought was dirty (probably hot lava). Never one to leave the house without some germ killing mechanism, I whipped out my hand sanitizer and sterilized his hands (and maybe an arm or two for good measure). But wait, that’s not the crazy part. I got to thinking, “Hey…is hand sanitizer even baby safe?”…so I turned to the most reliable resource for all parenting questions — Google.
Oh my goodness did you know that delinquent toddlers across the country are partying it up with hand sanitizer? Umm, what I mean to say is that there have been cases of kids ingesting sanitizer and having elevated blood alcohol levels. And since anything you put on your skin gets absorbed into your body….oh my gosh my baby is going to get drunk! It totally makes sense — if big kids can be affected by licking hand sanitizer off their hands, my little baby, whose body can tolerate way less alcohol than a two year old (#mybabyisalightweight), could too. Oh come on. I’m sure I’m not the first person to ever Google “Signs your baby is acting tipsy…”
The Truck Stop
Lest you think my craziness only involves germs, let me clarify something for you…I’m a woman of many crazies. Because I’m well-rounded like that.
Here’s a picture of my son when we brought him home from the hospital:
I’m glad we took that picture, because it memorialized just about the only time he was ever content in his car seat. The kid HATED car rides when he was a baby. So naturally, like all misguided parents who are determined to not let their baby upset their lifestyle (hold on, let me pause a minute while I finish laughing) we decided to go on a road trip to visit family.
He cried and cried, but at some point he became so hysterical that we decided we just couldn’t keep driving. So we pulled into the only stopping area for miles — a truck weigh station. Picture the tiniest little car among truck giants. To make matters even more ridiculous, half of the station was blocked off with cones. Well ain’t nothing going to stop this crazy lady from calming her hysterical baby…so we just drove right through them. I am mama hear me roar! We got out, and started vigorously swinging our car seat back and forth in an attempt to calm down our son.
The cherry on top was when the police officer came out to ask us if everything was ok. “NO officer, everything is OBVIOUSLY NOT OK. CAN’T YOU SEE OUR BABY IS CRYING!? Never mind that we’re parked illegally in a truck weigh station. You must not have kids.”
These stories may seem like exaggerations, but I assure you they’re not. Crazy is what crazy does, and I’m a crazy momma when it comes to tending to my kids. But you know what? I own it, because this crazy mama acts out of crazy love. Plus, it makes for a crazy good story to tell.
Do you have any “crazy mom moments”? I’d love to hear about them!