On children.

Confession: I love children, but some people just have that magic knack with kids that I've always admired. My Grandpa is this way, kids just gravitate towards him. He knows how to get down to their level, knees down on the floor and makes funny faces. He'll take a leaf and make a pug nose. He'll take a rock and a sharpie and suddenly he's wiggling a cartoon dog in front of you. But me, I've never known how to let go and be goofy. After all, I wasn't a kid even when I was a kid. I grew up too fast, and learned early on how the world can be dangerous and sad and cruel. By the time I was six years old I already knew more than six ways the world can try to break you. I didn't know how to be silly then and I don't know how to be silly now.

But I do know how to hug you like there's no tomorrow, and I've always wished I had a larger family to share that love with. There's a large age gap between my sister and I, and my younger cousins all grew up far away from me, with their own established lives. Both sides of my family kept their distance from my parents, and I guess me by extension, so I grew up pretty lonely. Another confession: I used to hope that maybe one day I'll marry into a large extended family, or maybe have a large family of my own. Maybe maybe, but it's not something I'm counting on. Twenty-four years I'm still learning how to feel okay with just myself.

A few summers ago I visited my mother's boyfriend's family in North Carolina. I had only met them a few times, and so his grandchildren said their cordial hellos before they ran off to play outside. I spent my time talking about boring things with my fellow grownups, but when it was time to leave and everyone said their goodbyes, his six-year-old grandson hung around and gave me the sweetest hug. It was unexpected, and in that moment I suddenly wanted to protect him from everything that will try to take that sweetness from him.

I like to bake, so maybe I'll be the kind of mom who lets her kids lick the batter off the spoon, or the aunt who lets her nieces and nephews eat cookies right when they come out of the oven instead of waiting for them to get cool. And I'll hug and hug their little sweetness, just so they know there's someone out there who's proud to be holding onto them.