Assuming squishier is a word….
I like the 1st two paragraphs of this post from Her Bad Mother, especially this excerpt:
“I carry my heart around outside my body now […] and because of that I am vulnerable in ways that I never thought possible.”
There are now television shows I can’t watch, magazine ads that make me cry, and simply ideas that make my stomach clench. I have always been something of a softy – crying at ‘chick flicks’ and Christmas Coke ads, but man – now I’m crying at Law and Order SVU – assuming it’s an episode I can watch at ALL.
Conversely, I have found myself the LEAST protective of the three parents regarding life’s little accidents. I’m the one who allows her to learn that trying to get off the big bed is a bigger fall than the little bed in her room. I’m the one who let’s her fall when stepping off the last step and then picks her up for a cuddle. And I’m not doing this deliberately – it seems to be an innate feeling that she has to live through these small catastophes in order to learn a sense of self-preservation.
Ooooooo but ask me how I felt when I over-heated her food and burned her tongue because I forgot to test it. Baaaaaad mommy, hang your head in shame. I note, however, that both she and I now test that first spoonful before eating – every time.
So squishy with hard bits – not unlike an Almond Joy. mmmmmmm.