Ordinary Moments: A Moment’s Peace Inspiration #21

Mom and Dad’s bed
The kids always coveted our bed. Mom and Dad’s bed was much bigger than theirs and, unanimously, all three of them voted that our bed was definitely more comfortable. Sarah described our “soft sheets like silk against her skin,” Allie felt “surrounded by a big fluffy duvet and enormous pillows,” and Sam’s tiny, tender head looked so small on top of it all. However, I think what all three of them loved most wasn’t this bed fit for a king, but the special one-to-one time with Mommy.

The warmth of human touch nourishes our soul

During those times each of my three children developed their own special cuddling tradition. Sarah was a hand-holder, interlocking her tiny, slender fingers between mine. Allie would nestle her head just below the bottom of my neck, resting in the flat, soft space of my collarbones. And my youngest, Sam, had a move that interlocked our ankles by resting his tiny foot on top of mine. We coined it the “foot wrap.” All of these maneuvers were not so close as to be smothering, but just enough touch to feel the warmth of another body, the security that human contact brings, and a feeling of love that is unconditionally mother and child. This tradition went on for years, the kids rotating turns whenever Ron was away.

Time passes, opportunities change

One day, Sarah announced that we could skip her turn the next time it came up. She really no longer wanted to “sleep over.” She liked the space of her own room and bed. My other two continued the tradition for another couple of years. Then, eventually, Allie, now entering puberty, let me know that her bed seemed just fine. She liked the idea of turning off her own light when she was finished reading, listening to her own music, having her own space. These things outweighed the idea of snuggling with Mom. No worries. I rested assured, as I knew lots of other mothers who had remarked how their boys had always been their “best” cuddlers. I relished the thought of the next few years of these occasional special nights with Sam, my youngest.

No more foot wrap

Then the day finally came. My husband’s business had taken him away from home for a couple of nights. I walked into Sam’s room to say his prayers and kiss him good night. He didn’t mention coming in for our traditional sleepover. I didn’t mention it, either. I went to bed that night a little sad. Then, in the middle of the night, I felt the presence of him lying next to me. I started to wrap my foot around his. He whispered, “No foot wrap tonight, Mom. I need my space.”
The next morning, over a quiet breakfast of Cheerios, Sam explained that he came into my room not because he missed our ritual but because he felt I was sad, and he didn’t want me to be unhappy. I told him, thank you, that I would miss our sleepover ritual, but I understood he had outgrown our tradition. It was his time to have his own space. I could have let myself feel completely gutted and heartbroken—rejected, even guilty. Not only was I sad, but also my son felt the need to lift me up, even though it was something he didn’t want to do! Instead, later that day I remembered something my mother (who raised nine children) had told me. As mothers we need to give our children the opportunities to feel our unconditional love, providing security for them to be grounded and confident within themselves. Instead of feeling sad or guilty, I felt proud I had raised independent, confident children. And I am continually reminded how I am challenged to keep growing right along with them.