One of the things I love about homeschooling is getting to be with my kids all day long. Ironically, it's also one of the things that is hardest about homeschooling. I have two 9-year-old sons. And they still hold my hand. When we go for a walk around the neighborhood they'll put their hand in mine and chatter along about their day, their thoughts and the things they want to create. When we're shopping in a store they slip their hand in mine and show me the things that interest them and make observations about the people around them. They hold my hand without prompting or embarrassment.
I love the fact that they don't know that moms are weird or embarrassing. No little friends on the playground have told them that I'm not cool. No one has said that only babies hold their mom's hand. I love that they are uniquely themselves and do what they want without measuring it against someone's artificial standard of cool.
I love the relationship we have. We can talk about anything, and do. We can laugh and learn together. I know everything that went on in their day and they know about mine. They confide in me, they listen to me, they want to be near me and cuddle with me on the couch.
Some day those boys won't want to hold my hand, but for now I cherish every minute of it. Some days those hands are covered in dirt and sweat and sticky food or things I don't even want to think about. But they put their hands in mine and I love it.
I must confess that I'm glad I have younger sons, because I'm assured years of hand-holding. I just wish I had a hand for each of them.