Cheese Face

Sometimes I feel like such a failure as a mom. And it can be triggered by something as small as forgetting to wipe Gabi's face after she eats Mac and Cheese.

We had lunch with a few other families after church today in an actual restaurant, somewhere fancier than a Chinese buffet or the local Taqueria. And it was a bit dark inside, like the nicer variety of restaurants tend to be. When we emerged into the light, Gabi was covered with cheese sauce. She had managed to smear it up into her eyebrows and inside her ears. YUCK!

One of the other moms offered a wipe, but I said I had some in the car and planned to wipe Gabi up once she was locked in her carseat. Because it was going to require some major scrubbing.

We said our goodbyes, and Gabi and I headed off to do our shopping. And at each store we went to, I would look down and see her cheese smeared face and realize I had once again forgotten to wipe it off.

We are now home, and she is lying on her Dora couch watching a movie with her dad, and has yet to be cleaned up. I can see her absentmindedly picking at some of the dried cheese.

I'm not sure when I lost the ability to keep my kid clean, but this is not the first time she's looked like I dunked her head in a vat of sauce. And if it's not her face, it's grimy hands. Or her hair is caked with something sticky. Or she's managed to get her clothes filthy in the time it takes to leave our front door and belt her into the carseat.

I never thought I'd be the parent with the messy, dirty child out in public. But here I am. Keeping a kid clean is a lot harder than I ever imagined. Even if it is a simple case of not being able to retain a thought for longer than two seconds. I might have to start keeping wet wipes attached to the inside of my shirt. Though I have my doubts that even that will work.