The Continuing Saga Of Cydni's Attempts To Convince Herself She Is Capable Of Motherhood

So, Shayne and I went to visit some friends last night, which was fun. At one point during the evening, the baby came up to me and laid some seriously sticky hands on my jeans. "Um, no. I'd rather you didn't touch me with your yucky sticky hands." I told the baby as I gently removed his digits from my clothing, at which point he began screaming.

"Oh. He's not used to not being loved. That's exactly what's wrong." The child's father asserted. Everybody was looking at me with expressions ranging from shock to exasperation to condemnation. It was as if I had committed a crime.

"I didn't want him to touch me with his sticky hands." I told them lamely. "It's gross."

They shook their heads. Shayne and his friend cleaned the baby's hands with wet wipes.

"There." The child's father deposited the baby in my arms. "Now she will allow you to give her loves." He was speaking to the child. I accepted the baby and he happily sat in my lap for a minute or two before moving on the other adventures.

As the night's festivities wore on, the older child came up and hocked a giant loogie on the couch cushion right next to where Shayne was sitting. (Good job it was Shayne, because I would have freaked out.) The combined mucous and saliva ran along the upholstery and oozed under Shayne's pant leg.

"Oh, move your leg. It's getting on your pants." I told my husband.

"yeah, so?" He didn't care.

"Well, OK, if it doesn't bother you..."

I tried to ignore it. The viscous fluid sank into the fabric slowly, eventually creating a damp spot with a slick pool of thick mucous at the center. I felt glad that my clothes were nowhere near.

Shayne's friend found my disgust highly amusing.

"Oh, if you think that's bad, just wait till they poop on you." He warned me. "Kids do everything. They barf on you, they pee on you, they spit on you..."

"Man, I tell you what. If you love Shayne -- as a friend, I mean -- please do not do this to me, because I am totally freaked out right now." The fellow wisely stopped teasing.

I was thinking about how, just a couple of months ago, I had managed to convince myself that I could be a mother. Even though I wasn't able to have my children back when I was too young and stupid to realize I couldn't handle it, I told myself that my greater maturity (compared to myself at age eighteen) would benefit me and make me a better mom. And I really better get going at it, I thought, now that I'm thirty and stuff. So odd that it only took a few visits with Shayne's friends and relatives to set me straight on that point. How quickly the tide changes!