Hug And Release

It started off as a normal enough evening, except for the part where I didn't make dinner. (You know, because there were leftovers in the fridge that needed to be eaten and also because I was super tired from my strenuous day of hanging out poolside with the kiddos and chatting with my best friend all afternoon.) Craig also had a church meeting, which is pretty rare these days, which meant that I was on my own to get the kids to bed.

Spencer was easy enough. A couple books, a quick session of teeth brushing, and a blanket to snuggle with is usually all he needs these days to fall asleep fast and hard. (Except that I discovered, about thirty minutes later, that he had his bedroom light on and was emptying out every single toy from his toy box.)

The girls did surprisingly well, delaying most of their typical bedtime stall tactics for the evening--thankfully, for all our tired sakes--no doubt due to their post-swimming and friend-having-over-ing exhaustion.

Really, the only hiccup was the Impossibly Long Hug by Savanna, a fairly common occurrence given her zest for (and insistence on) transferring every ounce of the love and affection that her little body can muster into a single, unending, vice-like hug from which even Houdini himself would have no means of escape.

Well, it started as a hiccup, anyway.

I hugged her back, long and hard, like I usually do, in the hopes for an eventual, inevitable release. (Which did not happen.) Then I tried to step back in an attempt to free myself. (No such luck.) Then I attempted to slowly pry her strong arms from around me. (Not happening.) By this time, the other girls were trying to get clearance from the tower to land their own hugs so they could go off to bed. (Mmm...nope.) Julia started complaining mildly that it was her turn for a hug, and that she hadn't hugged me at all yet tonight (conveniently forgetting, I suppose, that she had been laying completely on top of me during our nightly scripture reading just a few minutes before), but still Savanna would not relent. Enter Alexa, who, while trying to extricate me from the Jaws of Hug, whined, "She's not just YOUR mom, Savanna! You can't just have her all for yourSELF! You need to SHARE!"

I don't know that sweeter words have ever been spoken.

I'm not sure if it's because Daddy is usually the household favorite around here, or because of Julia's recent request to replace "Mommy" with "Mom" while addressing me in front of her friends, but this Long Hug coupled with a simultaneous claim on affection from two other of my children was just the thing that this tired, frazzled, most-days-I-don't-feel-like-I'm-doing-anything-right, "Mommy-I-mean-Mom" needed.

So I tried to appease the masses. I stood the girls all around me. I rotated in a circle of daughterly love. And I hugged them all in turn.

"Hug and Release. Hug and Release. Hug and Release." Two times around. Then three.

Savanna, of course, hugged me longer than she was supposed to on her turn, which scandalized her sisters yet again. But I just smiled, and felt loved, and enjoyed the moment with all my heart.

Pretty soon they will all call me "Mom." And they will all be embarrassed to hug me in front of other people. And they will all know so much that I, in comparison, will be rendered almost completely obsolete. But I hope, with everything in me, that I will always remember this sweet, funny night when they all needed a hug from me at the exact same moment.

And maybe, just maybe, away from the prying eyes of friends or strangers, we can still do Hug and Release sometimes, even when they are fully grown and surrounded by beautiful, demanding, affection-starved daughters of their own.