Today I was remembering when my son Smith had the chicken pox when he was three years old. I gave him oatmeal baths and covered him in calamine lotion so he wouldn’t itch. I put mittens on his hands so he wouldn’t scratch the red bumps and scar his beautiful three-year-old skin. I was distraught when he rubbed the mitten on his forehead and made a scar anyway. I cursed my mothering skills for marring him. Today at 23, he has a tattoo and a nose ring. That is all.Smith4Blog.jpeg