Germy Rant

Will you allow me to rant a bit?

Not that it's a huge ordeal or anything.  Just something that I thought was rather comical, actually.

Today Maverick and I wanted to hang out with my sister, and being that its still a gajillion degrees outside we went to a McDonald's with a playplace.  After a while all the friends that Mav was playing tag with left, so he was finding other ways to entertain himself.  So naturally, he picked the most disgusting thing there--the trashcan. Ha!

Not the trashcan per say, but the flap.  Which is pretty fun to play with if you're a toddler!  I kept trying to entice him with the other stuff but it was a losing battle.

Eventually another little boy came over to play with Mav, and his mom just about had an aneurysm when he joined him by the trashcan.  She screamed, "NOOOOOOO!" and pulled him off to the side and whispered something in his ear.  I don't want to assume anything, but I'm pretty sure she told him to stay away from the nasty child by the trash, ha ha!  I just smiled and continued to offer other choices for Mav and about 5 minutes later he was off playing tag again.  (although I'm pretty sure that playplace equipment might have had more germs on it, ha!)

So here is my rant.  Well, maybe not rant...just my point-of-view I suppose.

First, I'm a big fan of whatever works best for your child, you, and your family.  (within obvious reason, of course)  Every child is different.  Every person is different.  That is the glorious way that God made us. :)  I know that I don't like getting unsolicited advice or, in this case facial expressions.

With that said, it just works for us to be non-germophobes.  Maverick eats off the restaurant table.  He lets our dog lick his food before he eats it (which actually super grosses me out, but he sneaks it sometimes, ha!).  He has never sat in a grocery cart liner, therefore he touches the unsanitized handle.  He is exposed to the germs I bring home everyday from the mega-petri dish known as my work.   I could go on, but you get the point.

Mav has never had an ear infection.  He's only been sick once (besides the teething runny nose).  Thankfully God has blessed us with a really healthy child...and I think the nightly prayers for continued blessings of health don't hurt. :)

Germs are good.  Just to throw it out there--when I went back to work after my maternity leave, I got SO sick the following week because my immune system had lost its...well...immunity.  :)

Okay, I'm done now.  Thanks for letting me rant.  Here is a cute picture of Maverick for your time:

Oh yeah, one more thing.  This sort of falls in the unsolicited advice column.

I'm still deciding on whether or not its worth taking Mav to the store right now...until he turns 6 or something!  He is quite adamant about NOT sitting in the cart.  Which isn't that big of a deal, except when I'm in a hurry or have a million things to shop for--and trying to keep a toddler from pulling everything off the shelf is counterproductive.

So today was one of those days when I was in a hurry.  I was determined to put Mav in the cart right away, so that he would know right from the start that there was no room for discussion.  As soon as I lifted him up, he went stiff as a board and screamed.  ALL of Target was watching me since I was at the front of the store (you know, where all the check out lanes are...and all the people coming & going are).

I'm trying to bend his legs to poke his little feet through the leg holes.  A shoe falls off one foot.  I'm sweating from exhaustion and embarrassment.  I finally get Mav buckled in.  But he is raspy, beet-red, and using a tone of screaming that vibrates your bones.  I dropped my to-buy list in the scuffle, and its nowhere to be found...but I continue, determined to get what I can remember.

Mav is still screaming.  A lady walks past and says, "They do grow up eventually."

Really?!!  Because that wonderful piece of information is so helpful right now.  Ugh.

(sorry, I know she was just trying to be nice...and I just smiled at her...but tears were welling up in my eyes because I felt like the worst mom ever)

Eventually the Cheeze-Its and milk that were offered to him from the get-go calmed him down, and I think I got most of what I needed.  Just another experience to chalk up in the good 'ol mom handbook I guess.

Thanks for letting me vent.  Again. :)