One of those sniffling-like-a-six-year-old-with-a-runny-nose-I-want-my-mommy kind of cries.
Okay, I'm joking on the last part. (well at least kind of ;-)...)
Here's the thing: I felt about 18,000 times better afterwards.
Ahh yes, I am a crier. This used to be something I HATED about myself. But now I've come to accept it--embrace it even.
I have discovered through my years that the more I fight the cry, the closer and closer I get to making the situation worse. I may as well cry it out before it multiplies and erupts like a volcano.
So I cried for a few minutes. In order to not upset R too, I kissed his cheeks, assured him that mommy was okay, and told him how much mommy loves him.
What does he do next?
He rubs his lips on my cheek (something he's been doing for awhile...I like to think he's trying to kiss me), puts his head on my shoulder and squeezes my neck.
I smile from ear to ear with delight. This sweet baby is my precious son. How blessed am I?!?!?
Oh my sweet R, how you brighten mommy's world!
Then...I turn my head and he sticks my nose directly into his mouth.
Needless to say, I am then cracking up with laughter.
Oh R, you always know the right thing to say, even if it's not with words.