Hugs

We spent Friday evening at a restaurant with an outdoor playscape. The motivation here is really twofold: by Friday, I am d.o.n.e. trying to rush home and cook dinner, and the weather has been so nice, we love having somewhere to go where baby girl can play while waiting on dinner and where we can eat outside.

After we finished our meal and she was getting in five more minutes of playtime, another family showed up, and then another, so what started as quiet solo play on the playscape turned into a full-blown recess with six kids running around. Baby girl, ever the confident, social girl, immediately wandered over to try and interact with some of the kids her age. They kind of just stopped and stared at her. Rather than playing together, they took turns doing something--picking up an acorn, throwing said acorn, jumping, climbing over a low wall--and observing/being observed in return.  There wasn't really any talking. It was more what the teacher's at school call "parallel play."

When it was time to go, I walked over and told baby girl to say goodbye. She immediately went in for a hug. Because, you know, that's what you do when you have to leave. You hug the people you've been spending time with. The other little girl, who was just a bit older than baby girl, took a guarded step back. Baby girl hesitated. No one had ever refused a hug before. I saw a look of uncertainty on her face, and she tried to hug the girl again, a bit more cautiously. The girl dodged the hug again.

Suddenly I saw my baby girl lose her confidence. She looked lost. And my heart broke seeing any kind of uncertainty on her face. I know all too well what it feels like to be socially uncomfortable, shy, embarrassed. I wish I could protect her for her entire life from these feelings. I know I can't. But what I can do, what I could do right then, was protect her for that moment, for that evening.

I said, "Aw, are you trying to give her a hug?" She said, "Yeah." "Can you give me a big hug?" I asked her, crouching down and throwing my arms wide. "YES!" she yelled, a smile of relief and love breaking across her face. She threw herself into my arms and gave me the BEST big hug ever, and I carried her off the playground, her arms wrapped tightly around my neck, her head laid down on my shoulder.

I can't always save her. But I will for as long as I'm able.

And I will always be there for her to hug.