Wednesday, July 9, 2008
The baby, now six months old, has discovered hugging. When I pick him up, he wraps his arms tightly around my shoulders, grasping at me with his little big hands. He does this for minutes on end, sometimes cooing and squawking happily to himself – or to me? It is a little puzzling, because I can’t tell if he knows he’s hugging me or even knows what hugging means. Usually, too, the hug escalates after awhile into violence, the baby pulling my hair and clawing at my face with an expression of ecstatic adoration. But, until that moment, it’s wonderfully soothing to rest against the baby’s little body as he rests against me, breathing in the scent of his thin, soft hair, hoping that he doesn’t pull away quite yet.