What Are YOU Looking At?

Is what crosses my mind every time I see this picture.



Poor little baby....just pitiful.

I don't remember if I mentioned it in the past, but my kids have warts. My late neice Laura got them at some point during her illness and passed them along to Jacob right before she passed away. Or maybe he caught them from all the junk he picks up, but the Laura story makes them more bearable on everyone so we'll stick with that one. Anyway, Jacob was mercilessly bullied teased about his all over his fingers and arms back in second grade so we had them removed and that was no big deal. Adam started getting the warts last summer and until a few weeks ago there were only a few on his knees. On the last day of school I noticed he had a small one right on his bottom lip. Ugh. If Jacob was bullied teased over finger warts what in the world would happen to my sweet baby over face ones? So I took him to the dermatologist last week to have them (there turned out to be three of them on his face) removed. He was all for it too. When he found out Jacob got a prize from the toy store after his procedure, he was all bring it on .

Until that first blast of whatever that freezing off stuff they shot him with was.

Traumatized I tell you.

But to his credit, he laid (lain, lay, lie? I missed school that day) there and took it for the entire three minutes it took to get them all frozen. Three minutes is a long time when someone is squirting pain into your face.

He would not take the sticker the nurse offered him. Sticker? You're giving me a STICKER! FOR THAT? The absurdity of it all.

He refused to stop at the toy store. Someone! ANYONE! Might see me. And I'm mad. So. Very. Mad. At. My. Mother.

He wanted to go straight home to cover his face with bandages although the bandages were strictly forbidden. What if SOMEONE SEES HIM? OMG. Why did you do this to me? I want a new Mommy. I NEED a Cars 2 bandaid. Stat.

He didn't even want one of his favorite red velvet cake balls I ran out and spent too much on to relieve my guilt over screwing up yet another of my children.

He hated me. He told me so. Over and over.

Two hours later he climbed into my lap in the recliner and sobbed. His Finn McMissile bandaid quivering as he cried. He still hated me, but he still needed me. I felt so badly for him, but at the same time, I completely savored that moment.

His face has completely healed now. I think his soul has healed too. I know my heart is full just being able to soothe my children and do what I can to heal them of their hurts. I know one day soon he won't want me like that.

Then who will soothe me then?