Oh, the things we put up with because we love.
The Smells we must endure after your husband has eaten black beans from Chino. I will hold my breath every 10 minutes till sleep relieves me, because I love him. I've developed a skill to breath through my mouth and close off my nose so as not to smell the myriad of scents emitted from my loved ones. Its the price we pay, because we love.
The sights we can't divert our eyes from, because we love too much. The bloodied forehead from a trip down the stairs, the swollen discolored broken toes and the multicolored vomit. I wish I didn't have to look but I love them too much to turn away.
The sounds of retching I can hear a floor away, the screams and whines at all hours of the day disturbing my sleep and phone calls and concentration, the breaking sounds I hear virtually every day. I wish I could tune them out, and perhaps I could if I so wanted, but I can't. I love them too much not to pay attention.
The touches only a 1 yr old would think appropriate, the pinches and hair pulling the bouncing and boney butts grating my lap trying to see the computer monitor. Sometimes I get touched out and wish they would be content just to nurse and not to pull, to sit and not to squirm. But I love them so, I put up with it and am grateful the next time that they don't do that.
And my reward for my love, for paying the price, is a kiss. A sloppy wet way off center kiss. I will pay any price, deal with any inconvenience, smell all things foul, listen to every whine, see all things ghastly and fortify my body against everything a 1 yr old can throw at me because I love them. Oh how I love them.