Some More Firsts (of an Emotional Nature)

I'm the kind of mother who is always squeezing, hugging, and kissing my sons. They generally love to cuddle together with us on the sofa or in bed, but I know that these tender moments will start to become rarer as they grow. We're lucky that our oldest (4 years 9 months) is a very "cuddly" kind of person (he's carinhoso or chameguento, we say, in Portuguese).

My little one (who is two and a half), contrary to his brother, doesn't like to go on anyone's lap but mine, takes a long time to warm up to people, and is only cuddly with me (or my father). So, two weeks ago, I was giving him many kisses while I strapped him on the car seat (something very usual of me) when he turned to me and said: "No more kisses Mama!" A very sad first...


Then, last Wednesday I had to be particularly stern with my oldest son because he was just nagging too much and not wanting to get dressed to go out. (I have to confess that I'm not particularly good at disciplining. "Authority" doesn't come naturally to me, I prefer to be their "friend," but I know that they need a mother, and they need limits.) The consequences of my sternness were felt almost immediately.

We often play this little game, in the style of Guess How Much I Love You, usually started by him. When I tell him I love him, he replies that he loves me even more than I do, that he loves me 1o9 times. When I offer 109,000 he asks whether that's more or less -- he still doesn't grasp quantities over 100. He has even done a really cute thing -- grabbed a very thick book, proceeded to find the very last page and asked me:

"Mama, what number is this?"
"635" I replied.
"So that's how much I love you!"he said.
"Wow, sweetie, that's a lot!" I replied smiling and hugging him.

So, today, after I had to be tough with him, when I told him I loved him, he turned to me and said:
"I don't love you."

I demonstrated some surprise and immediately remembered Andi Buchanan's essay in It's a Girl, "Learning to Write." It it, Emi is having a hard time writing words that she doesn't yet know, but in a burst of indignation with her mother she writes "I don't like you" ("I_DTLiKE_YoU" in her spelling). Andi's first reaction, feeling sad and hurt and saying, "That hurts my feelings," frustrates Emi, and then Andi realizes that she has to give her daughter space to express her negative feelings. And this part of the essay is worth quoting:

my initial hurt gives way to the realization that my work as a mother . . . is not to be liked by her, but to love her. I am supposed to be her safe place -- the one person to whom she can vent, who she knows for sure will not leave. (223)

So I responded, "Oh, OK, but I still love you."
And not only that. I also said: "I love you 'infinitely,' [infinitamente] " which is generally my ultimate response when we start the escalating amounts of our "how much I love you" game. And he immediately countered,
"Then I don't love you infinitely."
"Wow," I said, "OK, that's too bad, but you can feel whatever you want."

Thanks Andi, for your essay. It helped me a lot, it made this first "I don't love you" much easier to bear. From your words (even though you got so emotional at that Mother Talk reading that you couldn't get to this part of the essay) I was able to approach this event in a rational and not emotional manner, to view it as a developmental milestone, and not as the very first act of rebellion of many that will follow (although that is true). I need to know that my son will have to learn to separate from me and that this is a first and necessary step in that direction.

Nothing like a day after the other, though! Two days later he said he loved me. Infinitely. And it was not after a round of our usual game, it was his very first statement. I know that in a day or two he'll change his mind again, that just means he's growing up!