Killian has glasses and he likes games. He is nine. He has trouble dealing with frustration and conflict, though he has gotten better about the meltdowns. I taught him how to breathe deep. He has two sisters. They all used to get sent to the office with lice, together. Their dad Argued No its Dandruff. He wouldnt come get them from school.

Yesterday Killian walked up to me with open arms. Fourth grade boys don't do this much. He wrapped himself around me and held on for dear life.
Lately I have noticed that I am the perfect height for little heads to rest on the curve of my hip. I hug Killian back real tight, his face warm on my side. It gives me that feeling I get like when I am jealous when I see pregnant women.

Killian sighs, he says, "My mom used to hug me"

and I say She Doesn't Anymore?

"No", he says, like this is normal, like if I asked if he liked baseball or if he wanted dessert or if it was raining out.
When Moms dont even Hug you I dont even know that to think.

Well Then I Guess We'll Have to Hug Like This Every Single Day! i reply

and he smiles goofily and pushed his glasses up his nose

and he runs off to playWizards Chess

and I stand next to the coloring table turning over how this makes me feel.