Hugs.

I had a realization this morning. It made me tear up, and few things can make me cry. Brace yourself, and I’ll see if I can make this make sense.

I’m not a hugger. My toddlers get oodles of snuggles. But as they get older, they snuggle less and I find days pass without hugs. They’re independent. They know I love them with everything I have. I tell them that often. But we’re not overly affectionate when it comes to physical affection. But something reminded me of how my mother smells this morning and that thought then turned to how her hug feels and how she still feels and smells just how I remember as a kid. Safe, soft, warm… home.

Grandbaby snuggles.

And then it hit me. As my kids grow and change, their bodies feel almost foreign to hug. They feel so very different now. They’re big and I try to give them space and don’t push for affection. The boys tend to hug me more than the girls. That surprises me. I didn’t have brothers and wouldn’t have guessed it would be that way. But as the kids get older they grow into these big gangly bodies that aren’t my babies anymore. Hugging them feels awkward and I tend to back off and hug them only when they make the first move.

But if they feel anything like I do about my mom – to them, I still feel the same. My body hasn’t changed much. I hope it always feels like home to them.

I need to be better at asking for hugs. Because man, I miss being close enough to my mom to be able to hug her whenever I choose.