Growing up I had amazing parents who loved and supported me... but they were tough. Married at 18, no college in their future, dirt poor, they started a successful construction business and the rest is history. My mom didn't believe in pampering herself or others, so when i fell off my bike or out of a tree (we were country folk-ok maybe slight coonAss) and i got a booboo my mom would say "oh you are fine get up" -bleeding or not. And i never liked this outcome...i needed some attention... So i decided when i had kids they would get as many band-aids as they needed to feel loved. Band-aids even became part of my grocery list, and not just the plain, flesh-colored ones-i bought my kids Barbie, Batman, Skylanders, Frozen, whatever Disney told them was cool at the moment- i just went wild. I decided my kids could even choose- at the exact moment of a scraped knee or splinter or sometimes just a bruise- "do you want Nemo or Scooby Doo?" This little $4 investment became a sweet love language for my babies. When they got hurt -even if it was just their little heart, i scooped them up into my arms and brought them into the bathroom and placed 1 or 4 band-aids on their hurt and although it was a simple gesture (those band-aids don't really help- i don't think) but i think helped them to KNOW i love them and will take care of them no matter how small or insignificant the hurt may seem. And my prayer is that one day that "Knowing" that they have a loving mom who cares for the smallest scraped knee will transfer to the One who Knows them best and that they will take the smallest care or biggest booboo or monster fear or loftiest dreams to Jesus who will scoop them up and care for them in each moment of life -and that trust and dependence will allow my children to love the crap out of anyone and everyone around them with the love they have received.