Now let me make it clear, I am not a mouth kisser. I know that many families kiss all relatives on the lips, but the family I grew up in were cheek kissers; I was not laying a bunch of sloppy kisses on this kid's lips, just quick, occasional pecks on his beautiful forehead. To hide my disappointment, I immediately made a joke out of it, walking over to our golden retriever, kissing the side of his head and asking him if we were married now. But I had gotten the point, loud and clear: I was to lay off displays of affection for my most affectionate child. .
For up until that day, that's what he was. When he was a baby, he simply loved being held. While Aaron, my oldest, stopped nursing the moment he learned to walk, Jeremy would have been content to nurse according to La Leche standards. Even when he became an active toddler with a penchant for wandering, what he loved most - when he tired of his peregrinations -- was to be held. By mom. As recently as this past year, he would sometimes absent-mindedly hold my hand as we walked through store parking lots, abruptly pulling away when he realized that he was in public.
And here he was declaring, what sounded to me, like complete emotional independence. My nine-year-old daughter, Abigail, immediately put her own signature on this same declaration by chiming in with, "yeah Mom You should stop kissing us like we're babies or something " Suddenly I was greatly relieved that we had pets. After all, John and I had showered affection on our beloved cat Nathaniel long before Aaron was born. Let's see: two cats and a dog. And they all love me. And, of course, I can always wait for the grand-babies: hmmmm . . . Aaron is 14; if he was married by age 25, the babies might start coming around the year..."
Walking up the stairs, trying to work rather unsuccessfully through the math of this upsetting new development, I realized something horribly selfish about myself. I love children and babies, not only because they are adorable, but also because they are so easy to get along with, so easy to entertain and so easy to win love from. I mean, how hard is it to make a baby laugh? "Peek-a-boo " Or the never-fail put-the-top-of-your-head-into-their-middle routine that gets them every time. With toddlers, you only have to be there and actively listen to their latest babbling about a bug, a bird, a doll or a garbage truck. But the best part is that babies and toddlers can't get enough hugs and kisses. It seems I could never love my babies too much, and they always returned that affection so adorably. Would I never again be invited to kiss those smooth cheeks, those darling foreheads and feel their sweet kisses on my own cheeks? Perhaps now it would be harder to show love for the kids and to receive their love.
Twelve-year-old problems are not fixed with a clean diaper, a full bottle, a good nap and a hug. Although the baby days were difficult in their own way, my children's love for me was never in question, simply because I was their mother. Meeting the needs of babies and toddlers is, of course, exhausting, but it is also simple. Like they are. How would I ever begin to understand and respond properly to the complex emotions of my budding teen-agers?
I decided to stay out of their way for a while. I wanted to take my cues from them, and not vice versa. But before I had completely descended the stairs, Jeremy, oblivious to my inner turmoil, eagerly called me over to show me a funny Calvin & Hobbes strip from his library book. Aaron, my 14-year-old, who was the first to declare displays-of-affection-independence, insisted that I watch X-Men 2 with him that afternoon. In spite of the unforgivable fact that I am his mother, he really likes to discuss his favourite movies and stories with me, something he has done since his precocious toddler days. Abby? She got some dental work done a few days later and I got quite a few voluntary hugs. I think her declaration was a little premature.
Although I will tread very carefully from now on, I'll always be there for them emotionally, whether it means watching a movie, reading a comic strip or giving a welcomed hug. I will try and love them the way that they need, not the way I need. And maybe, once in a while, and only on special occasions, I'll be able to steal a precious little forehead kiss. Let's see now, how many years until those grand babies get here . . .?
