I love your brain

Every now and then I catch Cole looking at me most adoringly. It’s disarming and unexpected, but melts my heart when I catch him. He usually grins a little crooked grin and looks away when I do catch his eye. It’s the closest we really come to “I love you, Mom”. Once he uttered it in phrasing that was clear that it was what was he was saying, but otherwise, I’m bound to these little glances.

As much as I hate to admit it, sometimes it makes me really sad that he’s never going to really say he loves me, or throw his arms around me in big hug, or shower me with little kisses. All the little gestures of affection that most moms, parents, take for granted, are all unattainable in my world. They’re such simple, uncomplicated signs of love and ones that I adorn Cole with as frequently as possible. He’s definitely a child who knows he is well loved.

I am well loved by him too. It sounds so selfish to want him to kiss me or hug me, knowing those are things he can’t really do, and that he possibly feels frustrated that he can’t wrap his arms around my neck and whisper I love you, mom, to me. Or maybe just a little kiss…