dimanche, décembre 13, 2009

Hug me



I have a confession to make.


And I make this one with more anxiety than I would admitting to getting angry with my ex (which happens, even in our "amicable" split) or envious of friends who still have living parents, or a night of irresponsible, torrid sex with someone I don't know well (I'll leave you guessing).
When he's here, and he asks me, I lie down on the twin bed, next to my 12 year old son, and put my arms around him.
Until he asks me to leave, and I boot out the cat, and close the door gently, and say: "Good night, sweetie. I'll see you in the morning)."
Lots of boy kids Mr. C's age don't want their mom anywhere near their almost adolescent shoulders. But both his father and I have noticed that this boy needs a lot of physical affection. As a toddler, he would come downstairs in the morning, and make a beeline for our laps.
When he's sitting in church next to his dad, he'll lean in so his head rests on his dad's shoulder. In the house, when I'm cranky, and one of the two children is driving me crazy, he'll come up behind me and stroke my back.
I know that lots of boys his age are playing war games on the computer, while he plays chess and Toontown. Some are out killing animals with guns their dads (or moms) taught them to use. Some are closing their doors and posting "keep out" signs.
And yet, almost every night that he sleeps in our house here in the country, he says "Hug me." Stay with me. The night is dark, even when it glitters with stars and the moon leans in as though it would enter the windows as we sleep. The fears are more realistic, but they are still there. Magic stalks the small hours.
Hug me, Mom. Someday soon I'll know that's not what other boys do when they are trying to get some distance from their first love -- and I'll tell you.
But not now.
Not yet.
Hug me, he asks.
And I do.

3 commentaires:

Sue a dit…

This is really beautiful -- and such a wonderful gift for you. I smiled at the timing of this post, for this morning my 7-year-old son -- so tall and lanky and bony without a soft spot on his body -- crawled into my lap and curled up as best as he could. I didn't want to let him go, because unlike Mr. C. my boy is not much of a hugger and never was. You can bet I hung on for as long as I could this morning. When he turns 12 I doubt I'll be allowed to crawl into his top bunk and snuggle for a while.

What a gift you have in that precious boy -- and how wonderful to have those reminders!

Offcenter a dit…

Sue, thank you. I do think it has lots to do with personalities. My daughter's not a big hugger. So you find other ways to show affection. ;-)

BigLittleWolf a dit…

This is lovely. My boys were both affectionate with me longer than we expect 'tweens or adolescents to be. 14 - around there, it started to change. I was grateful to have had that physical affection for so long. They seemed to need it, and I was happy to provide it.

When they no longer wanted it, I let it be. I think that's important. They'll let you know what they need - proximity or space. And I follow their cues.