Peas Out Mama

blogging about life in the mama 'hood

The Sweetest Thing

You’re right. I completely agree that my son’s two front teeth etched in red on my cheekbone and surrounded by a bruise is not sweet. In fact, it’s not even a little bit sweet. But that’s what I had last week — a visual reminder of my Boo’s energy and enthusiasm. The bruise has since migrated and darkened to make me look like I got into a bar brawl or worse.

Boo loves to run to the hubs and me only to be scooped up in our arms. We were playing this daily game in his room one evening until I announced it was time for a break. Boo was down with that and began playing with a toy. Meanwhile, hubs and I chatted. Unbeknownst to me, Boo decided to pick up the game again and headed straight at me as fast as his little body could take him. I don’t know what caused me to turn to see him, but I did. But instead of catching him in my arms, I caught his teeth in my cheekbone and hit my head on his dresser.

There were a few screams, crying, and Boo Boo Bunny (for me…turns out that other than being really scared, Boo was pretty much fine). On to the being scared part. He was pretty hysterical. As I iced my face, he looked on horrified in spite of constant reassurances that I was okay.

In an effort to calm him, I asked if he wanted to sit on the couch with me and watch The Cat in the Hat. That’s all I had to say; that show is magic. We sat hip to hip on the couch, my arm draped around his shoulder and holding his leg. He snuggled in.

After a couple of minutes, he looked up at me and said, “You got a boo boo.” “Yes,” I told him, “but I’m okay.”

It’s what he said next that killed me. His eyes filled with tears that resisted rolling onto his cheeks, and he said, “I did it to you.”

That right there was the sweetest thing — the deep concern and sadness at my pain and at the knowledge that he’d in some way caused it.

Hubs and I reassured him over and over that it was okay and that accidents happen — that my boo boo would be alright. Fortunately and finally, he accepted that.

But what lingered for me was this aching feeling that my baby boy was no longer a baby, that he was a little boy, who with his energy and enthusiasm, had also learned empathy.

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