Lola is becoming a little snuggler, which we love.
Ray and I always have been nuzzlers and huggers. We love to be close to each other, all of the time. In fact, one the (very few) things I miss about our non-parenting days is sitting on the bench seats in his pickup truck, right next to him as he drives (and tries - sometimes unsuccessfully - to shift gears).
Anyhow, Lola snuggles on her own terms. You can't force her to hug you if she doesn't want to - and, more often than not, she will hug you when you least expect it.
(The only times where we have "forced" her to hug is at family hug time - yeah, we're kind of dweeby - when Ray and I [holding Lola] run toward each other and do a giant, three-person hug. Lola used to fight it when she was younger, but she loves it now. She squeals and laughs.)
Anyhow, yesterday, Lola asked about going outside and I, instinctively, said no. It was getting too close to dinner time and I was cold. But Ray said, "Why not?" So we started getting coats and hats together. Lola looked at Ray from across the room, ran over to him and wrapped her little arms around his leg. Hug.
I wanted a hug, too. But when I asked, Lola shook her head, "No!" She must have known it was her daddy who was letting her go outside, and this was her way of thanking him.
Then, just to rub some salt in the wound, she ran back and gave Ray another hug.
Later, after Lola went to bed, Ray started talking about how cool it is that she is trying to show her emotions.
"Don't you just love her hugs?" he asked.
Silence. I glared at him.
"Oh, come one, you always get hugs."
We started talking about how they are especially wonderful when they come right after a "crabby" moments, when Lola is ready for bed or is hungry and you give her what she wants. Then, she really throws her arms around you and lays her head on your shoulder, gently patting your back.
"Yeah, those are the best," Ray concluded. "You just melt. It's like, 'Oh, what do you want? I'll get you ten!"
She has us both trained quite nicely.
- Bethany :)