Yesterday I was kicked, punched, yelled at, screamed at, pooped on, peed on, puked on, had my hair pulled out and stubbed my toe. The toe stubbing was completely my clumsy fault, but the rest Sam is responsible for. But there is nothing I'd rather be doing than being abused by Sam.
It's not like he intended to punch and kick me. He was so excited about who knows what and he couldn't stop his arms and legs from moving at the speed of light! And the pooping on me part - really it's just not a big deal anymore. Once you have had poo on your forehead for hours without noticing, getting a little on your hands or arms is no big deal.
He redeemed himself from the torture yesterday afternoon. I was nursing him and he was staring at me with his big green eyes. I was smiling at him and he stopped eating because he was smiling, too. Then he laughed, which made me laugh and we went back and forth for a few minutes before he realized that he was in fact hungry and needed to get to business. So far, that was my favorite moment of being a mom. The look in his eyes, smile on his face, and laughter that poured out from deep in his belly made me laugh so hard I cried.
I go through my day laughing and smiling because thats how he goes through his day, too. It's a good life lesson Sam taught me - you're going to get pooped on, but laughing at it rather than crying about it makes everything okay.
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