Picture this: It's five in the morning on New Year's Day. The Hubs and I rang in the New Year by our almost-two-year-old's crib side, begging him to sleep. After hours of persuasion, we all finally snoozed for a couple of hours all piled up on the bed, until just this moment. The child, beloved and precious, has had enough of Mom and Dad, and decided to show it by thrashing and flailing about. First, a knuckle punch to the inside of my right eyeball. I blinked repeatedly, trying to ease the pain, and had finally regained sight when, out of nowhere, came the head-butt. In the moment, several things flashed through my mind. First, I didn't think he could aim that well, but he must have aimed. Second, I think this hurts more than I think it does. And third, I wonder if my mom's awake because I think I'll need ice.
Moments later, the pain set in. And I felt the oozing down my chin. Nice. Flash forward a couple of hours, and now I'm sitting with an ice pack over my lip, curled up sleepily while my precious mother occupied my baby boy with a puzzle. I looked at my sister for comfort, and asked "Does it look bad?" I waited for her sympathetic response, wondering what sweet words she would have to say that might make me laugh at this whole situation. Her response: "Yes." She smiled, and pointed out that she can't lie. Thanks, sis.
So all of our family pictures from New Christmas Year's have me with a big fat lip, or me glancing to the right, or me kissing the boy. Call it art if you want. I call it the most memorable New Year's Day of my life.
I hadn't previously made any New Year's resolutions and hadn't planned to. But maybe I should. Maybe it should be... learn to block better.
Happy New Year's.
It sure is hard to dodge the toddler head-butt when he puts all of his weight behind it!
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