Friday, December 28, 2012

clinger

Mr. G has always been an early riser.  For years he'd crawl into bed next to me and patiently wait for 6:00 when I'd turn on TV and we'd watch Curious George for a half hour on PBS.  Always George--"George is a monkey.  He can do things we can't do."  And I'd tease Mr. G who is also a monkey and just as clever.  Then I'd head to my morning shower while he'd watch The Cat in the Hat  or Big Cat Diary alone.  That early morning ritual was our time to snuggle.

He's always been a tactile kid.  As a baby, he'd wrap his fist around my bra strap and push his fingers into my face.  If he was alone, he'd rub his fingers against his thumb, just to have something to touch.  Given the choice of every spot in the room, he'd pick the one on my lap or tight against my side.  He's the son who sleeps on a mountain of stuffed animals.  He's the son who never stops moving but always requires contact--a held hand, a quick hug. 

But he's 8 now, and has taken to coming downstairs at 6:00, quietly shutting my bedroom door and turning on the living room TV to play Madden 12 or watch Discovery Channel alone.  Growing up and becoming independent, the way a boy should.  We've outgrown Curious George and there's no going back I guess.

I only get a whiff of his morning smell these days--faintly metallic and sweet--if I grab him for a hug while he's still wearing jammies.  I don't have to shove over and make room for him on my bed.  I don't have to give up control of the TV remote.  But while I flip through the channels to find my favorite weatherman, I often pause on Curious George and miss those special mornings with my youngest.

This morning he came into my room at 6:15 and climbed across my body to nestle in beside me.  I reached for the remote and began flipping through the channels.  When I ran past PBS, he saw George and said, "go back."  I did.  We lay side by side and I leaned my head against his so I could inhale.

19 comments:

  1. It's like Mr. G wanted to remind you that he'll always be your littlest boy. This is absolutely darling.

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  2. Ohhh, I felt this one.

    My own boy is now 27, and I see him the way I once saw him only rarely, making it all the more sweet...

    Pearl

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  3. So sweet. I love it when a "big" kid regresses for a little while. Such a treat.

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  4. awwwww. I wouldn't refuse an early morning snuggler these days, either.

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  5. Merry, merry Christmas! Reading through the posts I've missed it is obvious you've had a wonderful holiday. We went to New Orleans and experienced the Big Easy. Lots of fun, food and history.

    We brought L home from UT and your words here are familiar to me. He's a man, grown but I still see so much of the little boy. I'm fortunate he allows me to hug and hold him (at home).

    Happy 2013!

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  6. At twenty-seven, my baby is a grown woman with a totally different smell than she had as a child. I miss that so much. I am very fortunate that she lives quite close to me and comes over regularly. She spent all day yesterday with us in a quiet reflective way and it was the sweetest time we have had in ages.

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  7. My 'baby' (8 1/2) is my snuggler too, but my older boy never goes out the door without a quick kiss.

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  8. Oh dear, "a whiff of his morning smell" brings back such powerful memories. My son is 40 and yet...
    Tears to the eyes and such things.

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  9. I miss my cuddly boys. My younger son had a lot of body heat and was great to cuddle with long ago on chilly winter mornings. His daycare ladies would beg to hold him! So long ago now.


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  10. And now you've made me bawl.
    Oh, the sweetness. We hold on to every minute of it that we can.
    Beautiful post.

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  11. Loved this post! My baby is now 15. She talks about driving soon, and shopping, and she doesn't have much time for sitting in my lap any more. But every now and then she'll stop and sit with me. Her legs are longer than mine, but I don't mind. Get the cuddles while you can!

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  12. My boys come in my room every morning about 6:00 am. I turn on cartoons and snuggle. :) thanks for reminding me to enjoy.

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  13. And now I'm having tears, as you've completely and perfectly captured Paco here, too, (he's nine now) and how cuddly and tactile he's always been--still is--and how he's growing into one only sometimes needing to crawl into bed with me to start his day. I know it's natural and right, but it's hard to watch some of the best times of your life recede into the distance.

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Spill it, reader.