Bubble

Confession: I am a space person. I like my space. I feel no need to reach out and touch anyone.

Greetings and farewells are occasionally "touch appropriate," but really, unless you are my husband, you have no invitation to invade my bubble.

My children do not understand this. They have no respect for personal boundaries, ESPECIALLY with me. Something about having been created from my flesh makes them feel entitled to be in my space. All. The. Time.

Oh, it is sweet and all. Everyone needs positive touch daily (bla bla bla), and I don't really mind providing it most of the time.

But I get to a point in my day (usually around bedtime) when I just need everyone to stop touching me. Especially since my kids are so skinny they may as well be re-animated skeletons. Say whatever you want about childhood obesity, at least those kids don't hurt to hug - maybe I should be feeding them more junk. Somehow a pointy little elbow or shoulder always finds a way jab the belly, which in turn, starts jabbing back. How do you tell an unborn child to give you some space?

This Sunday my four-year-old was having an especially hard day and really wanted to cuddle.

Special sarcastic thanks to the primary teacher who ignored my "dietary restrictions" talk and gave him a brownie on Saturday; full of sugar, chocolate and wheat. Of course I have no objection to the sugar rush, it's the stomach ache, whiny, the-world-is-about-to-end child that I have to deal with for two days after.

So he slept on my lap through two hours of church. Sweet, if you don't mind holding a forty pound bag of elbows. I swear the chair was padded when I sat down. But at this point, there are really only two comfortable positions to sit in in the first place, given that The Unborn is pretty much ready to fall out any second now.

I stretched out on the couch as soon as I got home, but apparently I looked too comfortable. The boys tried to cuddle up on either side of me. Mostly joking, I said, "Leave me alone. Why do you have to TOUCH me?"

My six-year-old's response? "Because you are the Amazing Mommy."

Ok, fine. You can share my blanket.