Today started with a holler from my Husband Jeramy, who needed me to get out of bed and go help him deal with our pee-soaked toddler and all of his bedding. (Apparently, he drank Niagra Falls when we weren’t looking yesterday.) I shuffled my bedraggled self into the day with the help of some hot black tea and did my best to muster enthusiasm for wooden play food and stuffed animals until Simon’s nap time, at which point I collapsed into my own bed until he woke again.
You see, I have been having the same severe neck and head ache for two days, so they have been a bit blurry. I almost didn’t write today, because I didn’t think anyone would want to read about the half pint of chocolate ice cream I ate from the container, or the way I spent some time hiding under a blanket. I didn’t cook, draw, sew, or even see much daylight.
There was one little moment in my day though, worth remembering and sharing. This is not to say that I don’t believe that every moment spent with my Husband and Son is worth remembering, just that this one stood out because of its sweetness.
I was heading from one room to another and as I tried stepping over one of our baby gates, my foot hit something on the other side, rolling my ankle sideways, and causing me to have an awkward, slow-motion falling down. I must have looked ridiculous, flapping my arms through the air trying to find a way to stop myself, but I still managed to land on both my left hip, and my upper spine with my legs tangled in a kitchen chair, and my back on the baseboard heater. I sat for a minute, allowing myself to figure out how badly hurt I was, and Jeramy came over to check on me, setting Simon down and telling him “Mumma fell down.”
That is when my little guy cautiously came over to me and gave me a hug. He followed with another, and another, and another. At least 6 hugs in all, and a few times he gently patted me on the back with his chubby toddler hands. He kept giving me this squinty eyed, round mouthed expression that showed he could tell I was hurt, that it looked bad, and that he wanted his Mumma to be ok.
I got to see a side of Simon that most toddlers his age don’t show very often. He was concerned, he was caring, he was affectionate and gentle. He was letting me know he cared for me and loved me and wanted me to know it.
He was also showing me a mirror, in a way. His reaction told me that Jeramy and I are taking good care of him when he falls, gets hurt, or feels scared. We have taught him comfort and caring, and provided a sense that in this family we take care of each other. That makes me feel quite proud.