Lynda Loveland: Hold me

My husband says I’m an enabler. My three-year-old daughter, Carys, wants to be held all the time. And I oblige. I can’t help it. She’s my baby and she’s a snuggler and I love it.

But of course she wants to be held/carried ALL the time. And for the most part, if we’re being honest here, I oblige. I’m told I’m creating a monster. I used to care. I don’t anymore. Here’s why:

The other day, I was in my closet thinking I really needed to change out my summer clothes for my winter clothes when Carys walked in. She said, “hold me." I said, “Hon, I’m just standing here thinking.” She said, “please."

So I did. I picked her up, turned my back to my clothes, and held her tightly. Then I nestled my face in her neck and took a deep breath. I started thinking how moments like these would soon come to an end. I tried to burn it into my memory. She’s only three but she’ll be 18 in no time. I’m not sure how long we stood there but it was awhile. I didn’t care.

So I’m an enabler. I’m enabling myself to feel the love. For that, I’m thankful.