I used to be completely germophobic. Someone sneezed, and I was backing away like they had the plague. If I dropped food on the floor, it became trash, even if it fell off the plate onto the counter I wouldn't eat it. Ryan grew accustomed to grabbing my discards, taking the plate that had the hair on it, and using the fork that fell on the floor. That's love, baby. I wouldn't use food that was even one day past it's expiration, and wouldn't eat anything that had been sitting out more than an hour. I don't know if it was fear of getting sick, or just disgust of the germs themselves.
Today I realized that I have evolved, and Lucas is to blame. To make my point, let me describe my morning....
Get up, help Ryan who is changing Luke's diaper, wash hands (thank goodness), try to make breakfast with one hand while holding lucas and wiping his nose on my sleeve. Run a few errands, forgetting to take along something to wipe his nose, use sleeve again. Come home, once again cook with one hand (except while washing the chicken - the old me still prevails there) and the other holding lucas. Watch as he runs around the back yard putting rocks and leaves in his mouth. Stick my fingers in his mouth a few times and pull out leaves and hard cat food. Wipe dog hair off his face and put him in the high chair for lunch. He throws his food on the floor, I pick it up and put it back on his tray, he throws it again, Ruffy gets it... lucky for Lucas. Realize I never washed his hands for lunch, oh well. Hand him a yogurt drink that I made two hours ago thinking "it's probably fine". Get him down out of his chair and point to a pomegranate seed on the floor, saying "Look Lucas, look what you missed!" as he picks it up and puts it in his mouth.
I'll stop there. My gosh, what am I teaching my child? At least I'm not teaching him to fear germs. At least I'm building up his immune system, right?
So what happened in the last 365 or so days that changed me from germ-0-phobe to germ-I-don't-care? Having a kid... having a kid who had at least 8 colds in the last year. Not being able to keep everything clean all the time, being so sleep deprived that I don't even care if my child eats dirt. Sometimes it is the insane desire to get out of the house despite better knowledge that my sick baby would be better off at home. It's just that, well, life goes on, despite being sick, and no matter what, he's gonna get sick, and so am I. So I'm done worrying. I'm taking life as it comes. However....I'm not saying that I'm stupid. If I know someone's sick, I am going to stay away, and I would never bring my coughing feverish child to a playdate or someones house, but the grocery store, yeah probably. It's just part of me doing my best in this world as a mom.