Moments before Rob caught this pic with Bruno, I was trying to read a book on my Kindle app, resting my tweaked back, when both my girls wanted to lay with me. But it was more lying *on* me – hugging and smooching and giggling and fighting each other for space.
It was precious in a suffocating, competitive, each trying to gain leverage by pushing their forearms to my throat, sort of way.
And they just couldn’t seem to stop themselves from elbowing my boobs.
Once one of them managed to get a finger hooked under my clavicle, I gave them permission to watch every screen in the house, with endless refined carbs, if they would JUST FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP ELBOWING MY BOOBS.
Once they scattered off, Bruno immediately hopped on. It was hopeless.
You can’t really deny it. What our babes need from us, more than anything, besides – I guess – breakfast, is our touch.
David Linden, a neurobiologist at John Hopkins says we have a special system for emotional and social touch. One sense of touch gives us information, the other sends us love. It’s a slow sense, crucial for bonding. It’s the same one that makes touch so crucial for a baby’s development. Without loving touch – children suffer with extreme emotional trauma, stunted development and depression.
I read once that we have energy in our fingertips and to me, it’s obvious. When I was a little girl, I remember climbing into my mom’s lap while she was having tea with friends. I can still feel that moment – her cotton scoop neck shirt, my ear against her chest, listening to the low, muffled sound of her voice. And I would rest there – always drawn to her fingertips. I would trace my fingers against hers, resting, listening. Sleepy. And not to get all mushy, but there just seemed to be some magnetic transfer of maternal love, like nerve endings connecting us together, even if we’re physically separate. When a baby leaves our body, they don’t ever really leave. And we can even have this connection with a child that isn’t biologically ours. This maternal love is some crazy powerful stuff.
Why else would I remember it so clearly?
Our children may not be consciously aware – they are just drawn to it. They gotta fill up with our love like a car fills up with gas, or I fill up at a Starbuck’s drive thru. Every time we get a freakin’ moment to sit and take a load off, it’s finally their chance! Fill the tank, sit on our boobs, cough on our eye balls, scamper off on a mission to find Barbie’s right shoe.
They just can’t live our best lives without it.
And I guess the same goes with our dogs.
We’ve always known they love us, but science has proved it – showing doggy brain scans flooded with oxytocin when they’re shown pictures of their human family.
So, alright Bruno. Yes, my arm has long gone numb – but it’s alright.
The girls are gone now. Come and get your love.
But dude – if you let out one more death fart, you’re going outside.