Waterfall Tickle
The other day I sat down on the seat by the window with my little girl. I sat down because I couldn’t stand up any longer while she insisted I hold her. As soon as she could string two words together her favourite combo has been “HOLD ME”. When she added a third word “RUB MY BACK” became a close second. She’s the baby, the last baby and since there is no next baby coming I’m still carrying her around, holding her when she asks and rubbing her back until she falls asleep. Most of the time I don’t mind. I know that this time where she needs me so intensely won’t last, her older brothers will happily run around for days on end without needing or wanting a hug. Sometimes I run out of energy though, holding her feels too much and I dream of tucking her into bed, giving her a kiss and walking out of the room and into my two hours of freedom at the end of the day.
This day I was getting close to empty but for some reason rather than refusing to hold her and putting my foot down I just sat with her instead of carrying her around trying to finish my chores. I sat by the window with her, we looked out, I tickled her and cuddled her and chatted with her. I tickled her a few different ways and noticed that when I ran my fingers down her back rather than squirm and wiggle and laugh she stopped and relaxed into me. This type of tickle calmed her so I kept doing it and called it a waterfall tickle. Since giving it a name that day she has been asking for a ‘waterfall tickle’ now and then, especially at bedtime and settling reasonably well. It’s played on my mind ever since. Firstly just in terms of how simple things become when we are able to communicate them. Before she could talk she would stand at my feet crying. When she could say “HOLD ME” there was no need to cry. Before our chat about the ‘waterfall tickle’ she would wriggle and fuss as I rubbed her back “NOT CIRCLES”, “THAT’S SCRATCHING, “NO RUB DON’T PAT”. Now she simply asks for a ‘waterfall tickle’.
It then got me thinking a bit further about her NEED to be held and touched. It jogged my memory about a book I read years ago called The Five Love Languages. Hers is most certainly ‘Physical Touch’. When I refuse to pick her up or hold her when she asks she is wounded, wild, loses her mind…because in her mind I am refusing her love. Neither of her brothers were ‘clingy’ or ‘demanding’ in the same way. My oldest never had to demand cuddles or share our attention with anybody else but I don’t think he would have demanded it in the same way if he hadn’t been the first born. His language is ‘Words of Affirmation’. “Is my drawing good Mum?”, “Did you see me kick that goal?”, “Come and see what I made”. He gets that same wounded, mad look in his eye when we are distracted or not watching or indifferent about something he is excited about. He feels love in praise and positive attention. It took me a little bit longer to figure out our middle child’s love language. For a while I thought maybe he was one of the people who has more than one, maybe even all five equally. Then I pictured him helping me cut up the veges for dinner with his own special knife or tinkering with tools outside, helping to fix something with is Dad. His language is ‘Quality Time’. At night when I tuck him in he always wants me to lay in his bed with him, maybe he’s stalling, maybe he’s being cheeky or maybe he’s trying to catch 5 minutes with me all to himself? Maybe he’s looking for my love?
Life is busy with three kids. By the end of the day all I want is them asleep so I can have a shower and have some time to myself. However, ‘at the end of the day’ I want them all to know and feel that they are loved. I want their cups to be as full as possible when they go out into the world.
