Not Exactly My Moment of Zen

Sorry it's been awhile. Just needed to recuperate from the Wedding-Pallooza that took place this weekend. Suffice to say, a fine time was had by all. Mike's family is a blast and with all of us staying at the same hotel, we counted ourselves lucky to not get kicked out for being loud and obnoxious. Mike and I enjoyed our temporary state of being childless, but as is so often the case, our tolerance for such is short lived. After about a day, we always feel the two of them tugging our heartstrings from miles away, pulling us quickly back home.

So, after the 4-hour drive from Buffalo (yawn!), we got back to our sleepy little town. My mom who lives right down the street from me was watching the boys, so I walked over to her house to retrieve them. As I walked in, Justin's face lit up and he wrapped his arms around me hugging me tightly.

As if!

The truth is, when I saw Justin, he looked positively nonplussed.

No, erase that. Actually, he seemed pissed. In a, "Where the hell have you been?” kind of way.

As we walked home, I received the cold shoulder treatment for most of the remainder of the day. Not the warm homecoming I was hoping for. It was, however, the homecoming I was expecting.

Yes, this chilly reception came as no surprise. For starters, Justin doesn't do hugs.

To be clear, he loves receiving affection. He happily snuggles on my lap, nuzzles his head into my neck and gives the sweetest kisses ever. It's the act of wrapping his arms around me and holding on that's the issue. Unlike his brother who skillfully climbs me like a monkey scaling a tree, when Justin is in my arms, if I were to ever let go, he would simply drop like a box of rocks.

In recent memory, Justin has hugged me once. It was so odd. I was at the gym for about an hour and when I returned home, Justin ran into my arms as if he hadn't seen me in days. For about 15 minutes, he just sat in my lap and stared at my face, studying my features. Then, slowly...carefully, his tiny arms wrapped around my shoulders and he squeezed.

The sensation of his embrace was so foreign that it really was at that exact moment that I realized I had no memory of feeling it before.

I'm not sure what was going on inside of that little head to warrant such affection, but it hasn’t happened since. Of course, now that I know what I'm missing, I've been like an addict seeking out my next fix. I was hoping maybe, just maybe with me being away overnight that he might just again miss me enough to reward me with a squeeze.

Alas, it was not to be.

When I really want to torture myself, I think about how scary it must have been for him at my mom's house. Not that my mom is scary (love you, Mom), but how do you explain, "Mommy and Daddy will be back tomorrow," to a child who has no concept of time? Was he waiting for us to show up? With each hour that passed and we didn't appear, what must that have felt like?

Luckily, I'm not quite that much of a masochist. I do realize that the ability to cope with stress is like a muscle that needs to be worked. Justin's never going to learn to "roll with the punches" if we don't ever put him to the test.

So, we will continue to push Justin outside of his comfort zone and he will continue to get pissed.

But eventually, he will get more adept.

And eventually, I will get my hug. Oh, yes. I will get it.