Holding On

I must make yet another confession here.  I'm not much of a hugger.  I never have been.  When I was a baby my parents had to lay me across their laps to feed me, I hated being held and snuggled.  It really didn't improve as I got older.  I will hug, but if I am hugging someone that is not in my immediate family, you can be sure I did not initiate that hug.

I don't know why this is.  I'm sure part of it comes from being Canadian.  I've got a story that perfectly illustrates what I mean by this.

On my first day of faculty meetings at my new school in Texas my principal called the meeting to order in this manner.  "We've got lots to cover today, so why don't y'all get your hugging out of the way first hand.  You've got 5 minutes."

All of a sudden I found myself in a hugging house of horror.  I had NEVER met any of these women before and they were all grabbing me, hugging me and talking a mile a minute to each other.  Most of my huggers never even identified themselves, it was just grab and go.

When I tell this story to someone from the South, they smile and hug me.  Northerners understand the full horror of the situation.

I do not hug those I do not know.  I pretty much need to have weathered a crisis or two with you before I am comfortable with that.

So, God in his infinite wisdom has given me the two most affectionate children on the face of planet earth.  If I ever sit down, my lap becomes the most sought after piece of real estate in the room.  They have to take turns snuggling.  I am hugged, held, petted, snuggled and kissed more than I ever felt possible.

And while I do feel loved and I am so grateful that they are affectionate, sometimes I must force myself to love on 'em the way they need.  It doesn't come naturally.  I like to sit without 45 pounds of wiggle on my lap.  I want them to LEAVE MY HAIR ALONE for just one day.

But every time I come close to vocalizing what I really want to say I am reminded of how short this time is.  In ten years they are not coming near me with a ten foot pole.  The hugs are gonna dry up in a moment.  And they will probably never come back.  For some unexplainable reason that does make me weepy. 

Above all, I want my boys to know how much I do love them.   So my lap, hair and arms are surrendered to two tiny bundles of love for now because they have my heart forever.