I love my son more than anything in this universe. He is my chubby, toothless angel. I never thought it possible to love something so much, that you’d go through the most terrifyingly unimaginable thing you could possibly think of, if it meant saving them. I always thought it ridiculous -and cheesy- when watching movies where people become so happy that they cry. Now I love my son so f****** much and I’m so proud of every minuscule effort he makes at becoming a human, that I must constantly keep myself from crying from being overwhelmed by it.
Comfort smells used to be things like sage, fresh cotton, and other things of the sort. I still use them for the room of course, but the smell I take most comfort in now is actually my son’s. I even smell his blankie occasionally because I enjoy his smell.
What a strange thing.