This is an AWESOME reminder how loving one another can be messy, but so rewarding.
I fought the good fight.
It must be some guaranteed stage of child development: The Band-Aid stage.
It’s that season when kids believe in the magic of the Band-Aid to insta-heal all bumps, bruises, minor aches, pains, and scratches.
I have endured tantrums.
I have given speeches: You don’t need a Band-Aid for any casualty that doesn’t involve an open wound and significant blood loss.
But really. Truly. As a mom, it’s easier just to pop that glorified sticker over the bruise and be done with it rather than arguing unsuccessfully with a two-year-old about proper Band-Aid usage.
Maybe it wasn’t even the Band-Aid my kids needed; I know this. Perhaps it was the acknowledgement: I see you hurting. I’m tending to this need. I’m not going to leave you here aching alone, wounds sore, pain throbbing.
This is, after all, why Mom-kisses on the tiniest of boo-boos are…
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