Tuesday, August 16, 2011

I'm Being Smothered

It's probably a little weird to write about this the day after I post a sentimental rant about my kids growing away from me too quickly, but such is my life.

I have a confession to make.

Some days I can't stand having people touching me. Including my husband. Including my kids. It doesn't mean I don't love them, that is most certainly NOT the case. It's just that some days my body has sensory overload. I want my body to be mine solely. I want to sit in a chair by myself.

When I was nursing babies the intrusion on personal space was different. My body released oxytocin or whatever the heck that chemical is that makes you feel all special and happy. Plus I was feeding my child, so that was good too.

It's not every day that I crave personal space. It's not even every other day. It builds over time and one day I just have to declare my lap a non-kid zone. Then the mom guilt come in a bit when each child looks at me like I've just slapped him or her because I expressed my need for space. Sometimes it is days before I can have kids piled in my lap again without a slight grimace.

Is this one of my major flaws? Is this something unique to moms who are more introverted? I don't know. I do know that in order for us all to be happy I need to, at least occasionally, have my space.

3 people like me!:

Jules said...

Dude, I totally get this! Randy laughs because I physically bristle when he or the boys try to touch me. I don't think it is a flaw at all, it is a good lesson for all people to be reminded that we all need down time, alone time, and no people on my lap time :)

Slow Panic said...

Oh do I understand this. I was actually thinking this last night -- that I couldn't stand it if anyone TOUCHED me. I seem to need space, space and more space. It seems endless. But I know if I don't get it things get ugly real fast.

FireMom said...

Oh man.

Hi! We're kindred spirits.

It's funny (sometimes) because my husband loves to cuddle. And I, well, do not. And in the afternoon when I'm finishing up work and my boys come up to hug me, I recoil. Mine is partially my anxiety, partially my stress level and partially personality. I was never a cuddler, even as a baby.

You are not alone.

 
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