Yesterday was a tough day for SB. He leaned down as I was buckling the chest piece on his carseat, and his face got pinched in the buckle. Then, as I was trimming trees last night, he threw himself at my back when I bent down to gather limbs and he scratched himself on the really sharp trimmers in my back pocket. He was screaming, and there was blood, and I was pretty much freaking out because I couldn’t see where he was hurt. (Those trimmers were SHARP!) I finally determined that he was scratched, and that he’d hurt his upper lip a bit and that’s where the blood was coming from.
The heartbreaking part is that as soon as he was calm from both of these incidents, he patted and patted my arm, saying “My okay, Mama. My fiiiinnnne…” My darling boy was reassuring me when he was the one hurt. For some reason, when he does this, it breaks my heart in a million pieces and makes me cry. My sweet angel, who came to me so sick, and went through almost two years of chaos with us by his side, is okay. He is completely and totally fine. His little voice, saying those small words, is the sweetest gift one can imagine.
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