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Over Touched

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I get where you are at Wolverine! I do!

I hate to admit it but there comes a time when I want to scream if another person touches me.

Having four kids, there is someone always too close. Do I love that they want to be near me? YES! Do I love snuggles, cuddles, and hugs? Sure do! But do I reach the point when I need to break free? Yes.

More times than none, it comes after a trying day. It comes when my fuse is short and my want to cuddle is even shorter. It comes when kids start fighting over who will hold my hand or lay next to me or sit in my lap.

Wait, hold the door, how many times in my life have people fount over me? Not many, I remember growing up I had a set of best friends, the three of us were best friends until the other two got in a fight and decided they weren't friends and I needed to choose. It started out as a silly fight and became even sillier when they were arguing over who would get me. By the end of the week, we were ALL best friends again. But now I got off subject and my point is, really, never has anyone fought for my attention other than my children.

So where do I go when I am over touched? You know, like a sensory overload.

I use to run away. Seriously, to the bathroom. I would run the water, you know to drown out whoever is screaming at the door. I would (shamefully) yell at whoever is touching me to give me five minutes alone, please, with no hands on me, no feet, not even breathe on me.

And then, I posted something about this on my Facebook page. It was one of those days and I needed to know I was not alone. I think I posted a picture and everything, looking for pity, probably. And I got, "just think no one loves you more than at that moment."

They were right, the little hands that constantly need to touch me want me to know they love me, they miss me, they need me. It wasn't the answer I was looking for, but surely the one I needed to hear.

So what do I do now when my touch sensor is in overdrive, I count.


One, Two....


1, 2, 3...Nobody loves me more than right now."

And I take a deep breath. Or two.. sometime three.

It is true. And one day it will end, not because they don't love me but they will learn new ways to love.

I know this, because I have a 13 year old, who no longer grabs my hand, who does those brush cheeks kisses goodbye, and if I am lucky, will hug me with both arms. Maybe it is a cool thing, but I know he needs and wants me.

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