Mother

You know you have a good mother when she says, "You're doing everything fine, but I'll stop by if you want me to."

Yesterday, Malcolm broke his toe. He was trying to kick his brother, but he kicked the trunk filled with photo albums that we use for a "coffee table" in our living room. So considerable force meeting considerable weight... and the result is an urgent care visit, an x-ray, and the first broken bone in our little family.

My mother is a nurse. She has trained me well in general first aid, including laughing at my crying children, as stress release. In most situations, I know what to do: when to call the doctor, when they will just tell me to keep an eye on it, how to treat simple injuries and illnesses, etc.

But I am so thankful that even when I know what to do, I can call her, without the pressure of calling a tell-a-nurse, for affirmation, comfort, and common sense. 

When I called her yesterday, I asked, "Malcolm bashed his toe. It is really swollen and bruised and hurts him when I touch it. When do I worry?"

She replied with something like, "You begin to worry as soon as you know it happens because you are his mother." Then she gave me advice on the next steps.

At the end of the day, I wanted to make sure that I had bandaged his toe correctly, so she stopped by on her way home to check on it. It was just a quick stop, a quick check, and a quick hug, but it was everything I needed after the day that it was.

I love you, Mom!