Our two year old grandson stayed with us for a week. Before he arrived, I expected that the week would be hectic and exhausting. And it was, but not in the same hectic and exhausting way that just dealing with work and a busy lifestyle is. It was hectic and exhausting filled with stress relieving cuddles and hugs.
Two year olds don't love unconditionally. At least my grandson doesn't. I have noticed that his genuine hugs (the ones kids give freely without being told to by their parents) are only for those to whom he feels an attachment. I love that kind of hug. His little arms clasp around my neck and he lays his head on my shoulder, his entire body relaxes into me, and we meld for a moment. Exhaustion and stress disintegrate.
Not that I'm against teaching kids to be affectionate, but why do some parents make their kids hug and kiss every relative? I always feel sorry for the kid and try to duck out during good-byes to avoid the demonstrative ritual that demonstrates nothing but an obligation. Do I think the kid likes me because his or her parent made them prove it? No. Do those parents think my kids like them less because my kids don't pass out hugs and kisses like sticks of gum? I don't care.
I want my kids to know what a real hug is. What real affection is. No one taught my grandson how to give real hugs, he just knows. And he knows when to give them. This he learned by just being loved.
Two year olds don't love unconditionally. At least my grandson doesn't. I have noticed that his genuine hugs (the ones kids give freely without being told to by their parents) are only for those to whom he feels an attachment. I love that kind of hug. His little arms clasp around my neck and he lays his head on my shoulder, his entire body relaxes into me, and we meld for a moment. Exhaustion and stress disintegrate.
Not that I'm against teaching kids to be affectionate, but why do some parents make their kids hug and kiss every relative? I always feel sorry for the kid and try to duck out during good-byes to avoid the demonstrative ritual that demonstrates nothing but an obligation. Do I think the kid likes me because his or her parent made them prove it? No. Do those parents think my kids like them less because my kids don't pass out hugs and kisses like sticks of gum? I don't care.
I want my kids to know what a real hug is. What real affection is. No one taught my grandson how to give real hugs, he just knows. And he knows when to give them. This he learned by just being loved.
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