Huggers and People Who Want to Be Huggers

Maren is a natural-born hugger. She will hug almost anyone, given a few minutes to warm up to them and possibly cheesecake. She is just a demonstrative little person. You know, she hugs, she kisses, she says "I love you" all the time. Sometimes, she'll come out of her room at midnight-thirty and I'll sit up in bed and fuss, "Go to bed." She'll smile and say, "I just woked up and wanted to say I luuuv you." Which then makes me feel like pants, but you know.

I can't ever get up and leave the room without Maren hopping up and giving me a hug. She gives great hugs, too. She throws her whole body into her hugs, wrapping her arms around you, closing her eyes and breathing out, like even that pesky air in her lungs can't get in between you. You can't help but hug her back.

Brynna is less of a hugger. I mean, she hugs. She's not cold or a vampire child or anything. She's just more of a cuddler. Brynna will crawl in my lap any time I sit still long enough and just melt into me. She'll lay her head in my lap and insist that I rub her back or stroke her hair. She'll climb between me and the back of the chair if my lap is full and wrap herself around me like a snake.

I get Brynna. I'm not all that much of a hugger, either. I like hugs and I'll hug back. It's just, sort of, awkward for me. The hugging. But I want to be a hugger. I'm southern, ya'll and we hug. Except me. I sort of don't. Unless I know it's the accepted social norm.

So, frankly, Brynna and I have spent the last seven years tangled up in a ball of arms and legs and have been perfectly content with this situation.

Until Maren.

Or rather, until Maren started hugging.

It started with a few whiny proclamations.

"You don't hug me as much as Maren." I vowed to hug her as much as I hug Maren. And I worked at it, ya'll. I truly did. I hugged her randomly and fiercely. We made up our own hug, the Smacky Hug, based on Maren's big wet smacky kisses. Something that was all ours.

Now, Brynna knows I'm trying, so the proclamations have ended, but the Acidic Glares of Doom have taken their place. Last night, I shooed Maren up and into the bathroom for her shower.

"Wait, Mommy. I need a hug first," her eyes were closed before she even got to me.

As I leaned down to hug her back, I saw Brynna channel Drew Barrymore in  Firestarter. I couldn't decide if it was funny, scary or sad. I immediately walked over and gave her a hug too. The thing is, and I don't think I can explain this to her yet, I hug Maren more because Maren's a hugger. I cuddle with Brynna more because Brynna's a cuddler.

I just think that in this world there are huggers and the people who want to be huggers. And Brynna and I are hug deficient soul mates.