The sticky, dirty, gooey-faced grins of childhood are some of the best, aren’t they? My kids are almost always the happiest when they’re a mess. [I try to roll with it, though it's against my nature]. Then there are the big toothy grins, which are also a favorite. I love to see my kids smile. I could have the crappiest of crappy days but a smile and a laugh from one of my loveys perks me right up.
Motherhood is hard. This third deployment is wearing on me [as is the pain from the wisdom tooth peaking through my very sore gums - you know, the one they said I'd never get] and I’m riding through on sheer endurance alone because I’m physically and emotionally exhausted, but even as I type that, Matthew is trying to crawl up my leg with a big grin directed just at me. I’m trying to smile back but I think the best I’ve got is raising the left corner of my mouth. Even that hurts.
