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Last week I read an article about moms who feel "touched out." Nursing babies. Infants who pinch and touch and pet. Toddlers who need to be carried, who need to be assured with a kiss, who get swept up in a hug. Preschoolers who should be kept close, "keep your hand on the cart." Kids who probably will not learn how to read unless they are physically connected to you.
Let me simply state-
five babies in five years.
I know.

There was a period of time when perhaps I was thought of as unaffectionate. That very well might have been absolutely true. But it wasn't out of mean-spiritedness. Certainly, at no point in life has this introvert been mistaken as overly affectionate. But, for a long period of time, I recognize now, I was "touched out." It only has been within the last five years or so that I have neared recovery.  Still, I probably will never be accused of being super demonstrative. At this stage, I have grown to adore the hugs that come in the Latino culture I live in. It is normal for me to greet friends with a pat on the shoulder or even a hug. I love when my kids give me an embrace.

Even so, every once in a while, I am tested. Like when the neighborhood girls want to do my hair. Really. I've had short hair, more or less, since I was 5 years old. I never had ponytails or braids or barrettes. I remember watching my nieces "style" my father in law's hair and cringing, so glad they chose him, not me. These days, especially, I'm pretty low maintenance. Morning shampoo, a few minutes to blow-dry and I'm done. On this particular afternoon, my up-do lasted about 5 minutes. Thankfully, that's around how long the styling took as well. I took a deep breath and survived.

Baby steps.
Maybe one day I'll get a massage...