I Love You

You know how when kids get older they aren't as affectionate? You start out carrying them all the time as infants. Then as toddlers they move away from you but come back frequently for affection. And then as preschoolers they just want you when they are scared or tired or hurt. And then the older they get the less they want you at all. Pull your 11 year old into your lap and smooth her hair on her first day of Middle School? Right. Hug an 8 year old boy who is apprehensively approaching a group of boys for flag football? Not cool.

But take those same two kids to church? They lean on me, wrap their fingers through mine, brush my hair, and put their arms around me. I stood propped between their two leaning bodies in church and knew that if one of them moved away that I would topple over from the pressure of the child on the opposite side.

I did the same thing to my mother. Particularly in the summer. Or at least that's when she complained the most.

Love you too, kid, I think. And hey, I did eventually stop leaning my body against my mom. So I am trying to appreciate these hot, sweaty times with little grubby fingers on my fingers and in my hair and on my arm. It's hard. But soon they will be teenagers who stoically regard the world and would sooner hug a friend from school in public than her own mom.