I felt the need to assure my dear hubby that I'm not abusing our son when he got home today. I will assure y'all too that I am, indeed, NOT abusing my son.
That said, my almost 11 month old son is covered in bruises. He had three new ones when hubby arrived home from work today. The baby, who will soon be the toddler, is continually learning his way around this world we call balance by way of falling. And we have hardwood floors. Need I say more?
Apparently I was jealous. Yesterday while trying to open the car door in our driveway I conked myself in the head with said door so hard I nearly knocked myself out. And the door slipped out of my hand and closed. So I had a huge knot on my forehead and still hadn't managed to accomplish the task at hand. Now I know why the baby gets so upset when he can't get the tuppreware cabinet open.
There are many bumps in life. They usually leave bruises. Sometimes they leave scars. It's how you respond to the bumps that determines who you are as a person. Poi Dog Pondering wrote a song, I can't remember which one off the top of my head, that admonished that the scars on our skin are "a map of the adventures and places [we've] been". I think that's true of our emotional scars as well.
Wear all your scars with pride. You earned them!