Her Hugs

"Praise is warming and desirable. But it is an earned thing. It has to be deserved, like a hug from a child." - Phyllis McGinley

There is no way for me to explain to you what it feels like to be hugged by your own child.  If you haven't felt it, no description will suffice.  But I will give it a shot today, anyway, just to record it for my own sake.

Maeve is full of hugs these days, sometimes they are just a mechanism for her to be picked up, but most often they are a reckless, spontaneous display of love and excitement.  She does not have calm, reflective hugs; she throws her arms around my neck in total abandon, when she is scared, or excited, or just totally in love with me or Daddy.  She grabs my neck with her tiny arms and squeezes, usually giggling wildly.  

It's like a drug.  It's more than a drug, it fills a hole in my heart that I didn't know was there.  I have loved her since I saw two lines on a stick, she has loved me since she nuzzled my soft smells on her first day, but now she can tell me so, with her own two arms.  

I hug her all the time, most of our games now involve hugging, squeezing, and lots of kisses.  I want to speak her language, to let her know I love her, am excited, or even scared.  And she gets a big grin when I hug her - for the first two seconds, then she wants to be free.  I always hold onto her for an extra second or two, just to let her know that I love her, and that I win.

The pure joy of Maeve hugs motivates me to always do my best to keep our relationship on good terms so I can always have those love bombs, no matter how hard it is.

Hard to capture a hug on camera, but this is just after.