Connections

This weekend, Claire created a new game. She asked me to sit at the end of the slide so that she could slide feet first into me.

Each time she plunged into my side, she burst into laughter and I grabbed her sides, started tickling her and buried my face into her neck. She cackled uncontrollably, losing her voice completely sometimes, and she climbed back up the ladder to do the crash course all over again.

It reminded me of how important physical play can be for a child. At lease for Claire it is. She lights up any time she makes physical contact with me, with anyone. She slithers up against me like a cat, wanting to continue that connection for a long time. It's why she loves to rough-house. She throws herself on top of me and rolls around on my torso, like a cat flopping on the floor.

I feel something between us too, too. I'm not talking about sexual attraction, of course. I'm talking about simple human connection, the verification that we are human beings who belong together, that we're safe close to each other. It's more than the feeling I get when I held Claire as a baby or when I hold Paige. It's a synergy, a reciprocal validation -- of love, I guess. It's one reason why I'm eternally grateful we had children. Because it's different than any other feeling I've experienced.

I'm sure it'll stop before she turns 15. But if it doesn't, I won't complain.