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The Laughing Mom: humorous tales of motherhood PDF Print E-mail
Written by Susan Pfaltzgraff   

Kissaroo

When my daughter Melise was born, I had this strange notion that I shouldn’t kiss her. It’s an odd thing to think regarding one’s own child, but I guess I felt like I had just met a stranger and it would be inappropriate to be so bold. The moment I realized that I was being ridiculous I started kissing her and have never stopped.

The next best thing to kissing your child is when she starts kissing back. I remember steadying my wiggly, uncoordinated baby while she attempted to stand on my lap. She got her head really close to mine and then pressed her open, drooly mouth to my cheek.

My first response was a loving, “Oh gross!” After she repeated this a few times, I started to catch on to the meaning: I love you, Mom. It may have been sloppy, but it was a kiss alright! Eventually, she learned to keep her lips together when she pressed her face to mine. Without the drool, I wasn’t even sure it was a kiss until she made the very exaggerated “mmmmm-wa!” It’s one of my favorite sounds.

As Melise’s kissing skills grew, so did her versatility. Someone showed her how to blow kisses and virtually overnight her little waves were replaced with blowing kisses. To this day almost every pleasant person gets a blown kiss from Melise right after “Bye! See ya!”

All those kisses just fill me to the brim with happiness, but my favorite kisses of all (and you’ll think I’m strange for saying so) is the boo-boo kiss. You know those kisses that children ask for when they get hurt? Melise is constantly moving at high speed, which leads to falling, bumping and bruising. After each incident, she cries and points to the boo-boo until I give it a little kiss.

Then she’ll usually say, “No, there,” as she corrects my kiss placement.

“Oh sorry,” I say and kiss the right spot.

Then she says “Thank you!” as she runs off to play again.

The reason I love boo-boo kisses so much is because they have magical hurt-ending powers! I don’t honestly understand how it works. Is her pain not as bad as it seems? Is it a placebo that eases her concern and, thus, the pain? I don’t know, but I don’t much care because its the strongest medicine I’ve got.

Not too long ago, Melise was playing with a boy who is a year older. They were chasing each other around until the little boy lost sight of her.

“Where did she go?” he asked me and I pointed in her direction. He ran straight to her and promptly kicked her in the shin!

“No kicking!” I said and started walking toward my daughter who looked highly offended.

The little boy was suddenly very apologetic and asked Melise, “Kiss?” She nodded and pointed to her shin. He bent over, kissed her leg, and then ran away! Melise stood there for a long moment with a confused look on her face, but suddenly she smiled and ran after him! I will never forget that moment.

There may be one kiss that tops the boo-boo kiss. It started while I was still pregnant with Alina. Melise would pat my belly, say “Baby Sista” in the most tender way, and then kiss the bulge. Now, she pets Alina’s soft head and plants a big smack right on top! Sometimes I worry if they’ll even get along, but that is long forgotten each time Melise blesses Alina with the “baby sister kiss!”