Tonight I committed the most heinous act of motherhood. I laughed when my hurt child was crying. It was story time and my oldest and youngest were in the living room listening to the story and my middle kid was brushing her teeth upstairs. As she came down the stairs she stubbed her toe and we could hear the ruffle and fumble of her trip, fall and subsequent toe stubbing. She ran the rest of the way down and I gathered her up in my lap. And as I did so, I lifted her injured foot up to get a better look at this injured toe for the obligatory kiss. Lifting up her injured foot, she let out the squeakiest, funniest fart. And because I am a juvenile who has never truly grown up past elementary school aged humor, I started laughing. And I could not stop. Could. Not. So she got up and ran to her room. I tried really hard to regain control of myself as quickly as possible. Really and truly I did. Once I was down to just occasional shoulder shaking laughs I ventured upstairs to kiss the wounded foot and heart.
As I lay on her bed looking into her eyes, I realized I don’t do this often enough. Just taking the time to lay next to her and breathe and just be right there. For her. And I realized there are so many things I want to tell her. I want to tell her that I wish my heart could hold her here in this moment for forever. That she is one of the most beautiful people I know because her heart is so genuine and full of hope and love. That I love how desperately hard she tries to hold on to the magic of childhood. That in this fleeting moment where she stands tiptoed on the cusp between childhood and teenager years, she takes my breath away with her courage and honesty.
Then as we start to unpack what happened and I sheepishly apologize for laughing when she had gas, she says “yeah, because I don’t laugh at you when you fart.” And I start laughing again. I can’t help it.
Gina is a mom of three awesome kids. The youngest was born a micro preemie and spent 3 months in the NICU. She likes knitting, reading and long walks on the beach. Without the walking part. So really just the beach.