Elianna has a cold. Snot, runny eyes, gurgles in her throat – the whole deal.
Now there are a couple things about babies that freak gross me out. Poop and snot. Internet, you know I’ve had my fair share of poop with Ellie, but I gotta say – I’ll take mustard any day over giant tootsie rolls (not in real life, I love tootsie rolls). In fact, it may be one of the secret reasons I held out a little longer with solids. Not quite ready to say goodbye to that good ol’ mustardy poop.
We’ll say goodbye as soon as she’s over this cold, though. She’s attached to my chest way too many hours of the day and night, gobbling like a turkey and grunting like a horse. My poor girl.
While I have yet to conquer my fear of grown up poop coming from my baby’s butt, I have reached new levels of motherhood with Ellie’s cold.
I picked her up out of her crib yesterday morning and the first thing I noticed were rivers of clear snot running from her sweet little nose. She promptly buried her face in my shirt, wiping her runny face all over my chest and to my amazement, I did not immediately pass her off to dad and dash to the bedroom for a new shirt while dry heaving. Instead, I snuggled her closer and let the snot river flow.