How to Love

When Oliver was a baby, (I love that phrase, by the way- as opposed to now, when Oliver is-um, a baby)- Michael used to snuggle him close and say, "This stage is not going to last forever. There will come a day when he will no longer voluntarily sit on my lap and snuggle for a significant period of time."

That day is here. Ollie is a cuddlebug, don't get me wrong- we hug, crawl all over each other, and toss him around playfully- but he's also one year old. When he wants down, he gets himself to the floor, and fast. There are two times of the day when we can get him to a state of putty in our laps, though; they involve milk and a bottle. During one of these said times, I reminded Michael of the days when Oliver stayed put in our arms at any old time of the day.

But then I realized something. This stage has something very special that the other blob-in-the-arms stage did not: Oliver knows how to hug. When he is intently dancing and bouncing with his ball-popper, or trying to navigate a truck across the floor while getting himself to travel as well, he will stop what he is doing, crawl over to me or Michael, and lunge at us in a big hug. Just out of the blue like that. It's perhaps one of the most beautiful moments I have witnessed in parenthood so far.

This week, he has continued to perfect his embrace. I walked him into his nursery at bedtime one night, and began our sleepy-time ritual. I drew the shades, grabbed a nuk and blanket, and settled into the rocking chair. Oliver, following suit into the ritual, lay his head on my chest, and then did something extraordinary- he patted me on the back. The dear child has received so many cuddling, back-stroking, pat-pat-patting hugs that he has picked up the intracacies of an embrace. Hug after hug, he will put his arms around your neck, and love you with a tiny pat-pat, pat-pat.

This developement is causing me to take pause and note that in addition to teaching our son what a puppy says, how to flip a light switch, and crawl up the stairs, we are also teaching him the art of empathy. If Oliver ever lags in any area of development, I'm not sure I will find it such a big deal, for the first thing he learned was how to love, and to love well.