On the Importance of Snuggling (and Getting Eggs)

Snuggling.  ‘Nugglin’.  Hunkerin’ down with baby-shampoo-scented kiddos.  This is the universal slayer of mamas everywhere.

There’s just nothing quite like a small, sleepy child who nuzzles his silky-haired head into your neck in that sweet spot between your collarbone and jaw.

When I went to my twin boys’ preschool open house last week, you could hear the mamas’ collective, contented sighs from the parking lot.  Every project from our precious punkins is perfect:  sunflower seeds glued haphazardly to garish yellow construction paper, life-sized cutouts of their huggable bodies on butcher paper, and, best of ALL, the All About Me pages where teachers diligently record every precious thought and funny phrase.

It’s like adorable on overload.

The parents are in heaven.  The kids are saturated with attention and off-brand Oreo cookies, doing apple juice shots out of Dixie cups underneath wobbly tables.

And if anyone unrelated to these kiddos were to accidentally stumble into the room, the sheer volume of cute would probably make them vomit buckets.

But I’m not a stranger.  I’m a parent.  It was charming.

I could not WAIT to read my boys’ All About Me pages.  And imagine my delight when I learned that one of the complete-the-sentence sections read as follows:

“My favorite thing to do with Mom is…”


And I’m sure you can guess what the #1 answer was.

Why, it was snuggle, of course.

“My favorite thing to do with Mom is snuggle.”

Aw!  (Sorry.  But, seriously, “aw!”)

My twins’ boy cousin is in their class.  His paper read:

“My favorite thing to do with Mom is snuggle.”


My own son, Cael, answered:

“My favorite thing to do with Mom is snuggle.”

And he’s not kidding around, either.  He really is my most dedicated ‘nuggler.

Kissable Cael



And then I read Cai’s All About Me page, my heart already full to bursting.  ‘Cause that’s the awesome thing about twins.  The only thing better than one snuggler is TWO!

Cai’s paper read:

“My favorite thing to do with my mom is… get eggs.”

Aw… say, what?

“Cai Cai?” said I.

“Yes?” said Cai.

“What’s your favorite thing to do with your mama?”

“Get eggs!” he replied with enthusiasm and verve.  “Yay, yay, YAY!  Get eggs!”

Huh.  Well, so much for my grand hopes of a transcription error.

Now, our neighbors have chickens, and my children do love them (both the neighbors and the chickens).  But, other than the one time months and months ago, I don’t go get eggs from the chicken coop with Cai.

Which leads me to the conclusion that Cai likes getting eggs with me, um, from our refrigerator.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is how exciting our home life is.

Me:  Hey, Cai!  It’s time to get an egg out of the fridge!


I would like to take this opportunity to note in the official record that I tuck Cai in at night.  I read books and snuggle and kiss him, even though he says he hates kisses and then spits.

I wipe Cai’s butt as needed.  And by “as needed,” I mean that he saves all of the BEST, most soupy, butt-wiping experiences for his mama.  (Aw!)

I stand in the bathroom with Cai Cai because he’s too afraid to go potty by himself.  He runs to me with his hands squeezin’ his butt cheeks, holdin’ the poo in place, desperately saying, “MOM! I have go poop RIGHT NOW! Come ON!”  And we hurry to the potty together ’cause I am a sucker and can’t bear to let him Squat the Pot alone and afraid.

I cut Cai’s food into bites.  I let him sit on my lap during dinner.  I teach him to be kind.  (Yeah. We’re still working on that whole spitting thing.)  I let this child, who God built using all elbows and knees, climb into my bed in the middle of the night and kick my full bladder.

I hold his hand.  I rub his back.  I let him fly off the couch into my arms.

So… get eggs?

But I got to thinking.  (Don’t you just hate it when that happens?)

And here’s what I realized.

I LOVE that Cael’s favorite thing to do with me matches my favorite thing to do with him.  Cael’s been my ‘nuggler from the get-go.  He snuggled down in my womb and decided he wasn’t ready to come out ’til 3 hours and 17 minutes after his twin brother.  When he was an infant, he relished being cradled and cuddled to sleep.  He still loves his time with his mama.  And, boy howdy, do I love my time with him.

And, also…

I LOVE that Cai’s favorite thing to do doesn’t match my favorite thing, and took me by surprise.  Heck; truth be told, everything Cai does takes me by surprise, from that moment, 7 weeks before his due date, that he kicked a giant, leaky hole in his womb-sac and demanded entry to the world.  He had places to go, dang it!  People to see.  This is no time to wallow in a womb, folks!  There are eggs to get!

I learn every single day from my Cai-kid how to grab at life while it rushes by me.  Every once in a while, I even snag a tuft of Life’s fur and swing myself onto its back.  And then we ride and ride.  The wind in our hair; Cai and me at full speed.  We’re not headed for the finish line, either.  We’re just riding for sheer joy.

I’m incredibly grateful for my kids.  The snugglers and the doers.  They teach me that life can be found sitting on the couch, snuggling, and breathing in my babies.  And they teach me to get up off my lazy rump and appreciate important things that I might otherwise mistakenly overlook as mundane, routine, ordinary or boring.

Like getting eggs.  Which, quite honestly, never looked so good.

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6 responses to “On the Importance of Snuggling (and Getting Eggs)”

  1. So cute! But can I tell you? I’m glad to know that you’re still wiping butts… because my husband thinks 4 1/2 is apparently old enough to wipe your own… and then I end up cleaning poo off the carpet (don’t ask how that happened…). So thanks for backing me up on this! 😉

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