, , , , , , , , ,

Truman is breaking my heart daily. His vocabulary is quite impressive and every morning he wakes up more and more able to put together coherent sentences. This is fantastic of course, but is also humbling and sometimes so sweet I’m not sure how to avoid smothering him with tears and kisses.

On Sunday he was writhing around on my bed while I attempted to change his diaper and get him dressed. As I tried for the third time to fasten his diaper tabs, he wildly shot himself upward, laughing maniacally and arching his back, and pulled the diaper down…again. I grabbed his thighs to pull him closer to me just as he flailed both legs to the side, an attempt at one of those underwater death rolls that crocodiles do when they are trying to kill their prey. I was pulling and he was twisting and quickly his laughter turned to tears.

“Ow!” He stopped flopping and looked up at me with those big saucer eyes, now pained and misty. “Hurt! Yeg!” He pointed to his thigh where my thumb had been a second before.

“Your leg hurts?” I was fastening his diaper and was admittedly kind of happy that he was laying still. I assumed he had hurt himself flopping around like a crazy person.

“Me! Hurt Yeg! MAMA!” And that accusatory little chubby finger pointed right into my face.

I hurt your leg?” I froze. I hadn’t grabbed him that hard…or had I? I wanted him to come closer and stop flailing but I wasn’t angry or super frustrated, just a little annoyed and tired of a two minute job taking ten.

“Yeah!” Sniffles and tears were still coming and there was such betrayal in his eyes! “You Mama. Hurt yeg…ME!” We have been working hard lately on Please, Thank You, You’re Welcome, and I’m Sorry. I always ask Truman what we say when we hurt someone, and he always replies with “I saw-we!” Well, I had hurt him and I most definitely was, “saw-we.”

“I’m so sorry Truman! I didn’t mean to hurt your leg. Are you okay?” I pulled him to his feet and held him close. He squeezed me back and said, “Yeah!” I pulled away and looked him right in the eyes, “Truman I would never hurt you on purpose okay? I’m sorry I squeezed your leg too hard. Do you want me to kiss it?” He loves when I kiss boo-boos so that was an emphatic yes. I kissed his thigh and we went on with our day.

I felt better but still a little guilty about the whole situation, until this morning. I have had stomach issues for the last five days. I’m not sure what is wrong with me, but this morning I woke up with stomach cramps and a back ache and was not having an easy time. Truman took a shower with me and as I dried him off afterward, he wiggled around giggling. He was chilly and excited but his wiggling was making it harder to get him dry and warm.

“Truman, Mommy doesn’t feel very good right now and I would really like you to hold still so I can just get you dressed.” I watched his face change right in front of me. Recognition. Empathy. Concern. Caring. He stretched his arms out wide and gave me a big tight hug. With his head on my shoulder, and his little voice right in my ear, I heard:

“I saw-we.”

And then it was my turn for tears.