Mommy Can't Kiss Every Boo-Boo

"OUCHIE!!!" screamed G-man, who made the unfortunate discovery that there had been an advantage to the extra padding his diapers once provided him when he would throw himself to the floor in past tantrums.

"Oh, sweetie, are you ok?" I asked, extending my arms to him for comfort.

"What's THIS???" he desperately inquired through sobs, pointing to his boy bits before grabbing them, obviously still in pain.

"That's your penis and your testicles," I answered, mustering up my mommy maturity to address the situation as calmly and as quietly as possible during the melt-down of all melt-downs. "Did you get hurt down there, buddy?"

"KISS IT!!" (*red-faced, tears streaming down his face*)

Now, before I continue, please remember that the boy is three. This request was in no way meant to be nasty; he has no idea of his sexuality, yet. It's just another boo-boo that he wanted Mommy to kiss and make better, as if he had skinned a knee or bumped his noggin. His was an innocent, completely natural assumption that I'd do the same thing in this situation.

"KIIIIISSSSSS IIIIITTTTTT!!!" (*more tears, choking, quick, sharp intakes of breath between wails...*)

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry, that's something Mommys don't kiss and make better. I can give you a nice big hug and hold you for a while," I offered.

"NOOOOOOOOO!"

Poor little guy. There was no way to explain it. I could only do my best to wait it out until he would accept the hug. There are some things Mommys can't kiss to make better.

We all learn this at some point in our childhoods. Perhaps not quite as viscerally, but eventually, we have broken hearts, broken dreams, challenged beliefs that not even our parents can help us heal.

The lessons get harder as we get older. Some things not even our parents ever imagine having to try to comfort us about. I can't imagine what it's like for a Grandparent to lose a grandchild and have to grieve and then worry about his or her own children as they mourn.

We appreciate the hugs, the long talks, the babysitting to allow us time to ourselves or time for advocacy events. Of course nothing will make the hurt go away altogether, but the hugs help. Eventually, slowly, we find some sort of healing. Not without deep scars, of course.

As we approach Mothers' Day, I wanted to thank my mom and my mother-in-law, for everything. I couldn't begin to explain the lengths to which they go, striving to be there for us, offering a kiss, a hug, anything to make it better.

We love you, Mom and Lil.