There was a day not too long ago that I went into mourning.
It was the day I realized my boys no longer wanted to give me hugs or kiss me on the cheek. Instead, I had been relegated to the “Yucky Girls Club”. A club I had not even been invited to! How’s that for cliques?
You’re kidding! No more kisses from my 8-year-old? Just because he’s at the stage where he thinks girls are gross? I’m never to have a peck on the cheek until I stand in the receiving line at his wedding some day?!
(I was having faith he would be past the “yucky kisses” stage by then)
Can you see why I was mourning? Now it’s one thing if my new teenager doesn’t want to kiss me on the cheek anymore, but my eight-year-old?!! Why it seems only yesterday that I was changing his diapers and tickling his bellybutton. I can still remember his sweet words when he would crawl into bed with me early mornings and say, “Scoot ober, please!”
I was not ready for him to be completely done with Mom yet.
So I came up with a way to get my kisses, wanted or not. Remember my quest to cure the whining this summer? And how I made them kiss me for punishment sometimes?
Well, I got my kisses, but it did a funny thing. Once Logan, our 8-year-old, had to fulfill his punishment . . . he began to realize Mom wasn’t so yucky after all!
One evening later, as everyone was saying goodnight, he came over and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. Looking rather sheepish, yet hopeful.
I became a puddle right there in the living room. And then when, a couple weeks later, the 11-year-old decided that if his younger brother could do it, he could too – Mom was over the moon!
Looks like I’ve now been kicked out of the “Yucky Girls Club” and back to just being Mom.
And there I hope to stay until they turn thirteen . . .