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Posts Tagged ‘sweet’

Blowing Hugs

Something I’ve gotten used to, and didn’t realize was so adorable until I was describing it to T, is the fact that L blows hugs to me. How does one blow a hug? Well, he crosses his arms around himself, gives himself a big squeeze, and then thrusts his arms out towards me. I guess it’s more hug throwing than blowing. Damn that kid is sweet and adorable when he’s not possessed by the devil.

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There is so much about being a parent that you couldn’t possibly guess at until you’re there (and then it’s too late). There’s the big stuff: how in love you can be with a baby, how endearing it is when your toddler says he loves you, how fun it is to see your partner’s traits coming through in your kids…. But there’s also so many small things every day that take you by surprise. Like the time I wanted to beat up a group of 5-year-old girls. I never would have thought that I could be so angry at such little kids, that I could really think they were mean, horrible little people. But I did.

About a year ago I went for a walk with my then completely adorable, happy, sweet 2-year-old L. He was nothing but awesome in those days. (T is convinced I’m remembering it wrong, but I swear, there were a few months right at 2 when L was perfect.) He was infectiously enthusiastic about everything, and had a smile that could make your day. On this walk last spring, we saw a group of girls, about 5 years old, playing on a front lawn up ahead. Although we had never seen these kids before, L exclaimed, “My friends!!” and took off running to see them.

When he arrived at the group, the evil little ring-leader said “Ew, run away from the baby!” And run they did. L thought this was a great game. He ran after them, thrilled. I didn’t love seeing him being made a fool of, but it got worse.

The ring leader noticed that he thought they were all playing together, and worse, that some of her friends seemed to like playing with this little kid, so she came right up to him and said, “We don’t want to play with you, you’re a baby.” And ran off. Confused by this obvious error, L continued to run after them calling out, “Me not baby! Me big boy!”

At this point my heart broke. How freaking cute is that?? He just wanted to clear up the confusion. He was not a baby, but a big boy who wanted to play! I had to drag him away from there. I explained that some kids are just mean, and that those were mean kids. (I know, I know, they are not mean kids, it’s normal etc etc, but I still hate those girls.) He looked bewildered; “Mean kids?” he asked, as if the concept were crazy.

I did not know before having kids how my heart could break so easily, how my maternal protectiveness would have me kill anyone who so much as dismisses my baby. What am I going to do when L meets real adversity? What if there’s a bully who picks on him? A girl who dumps him? A teacher who doesn’t see what a delightful, kind and smart person he is under his often entirely dis-likable demeanor?

Whenever I’m having a hard time liking him myself, like at dinner tonight for example, I can just picture him as his 2-year-old impish self, repeating “Me not baby! Me big boy!” and I remember how sweet he really is. Somewhere in there.

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