he doesn't hurt my feelings

Max has been at G&Gs for 9 days now. Such a long time for us to be apart. I miss our early morning cuddles, when he calls me to his room and in all his sleep-ruffled glory wraps his arms around me and tells me that he's had a good sleep (regardless of the night - which is really quite sweet!)

I've called every day. I've had lengthy conversations with his sister about every little thing that's happened, every little adventure that they've had while they've been gone. She tells me she really wants to come home, and that she really, really misses me. Sometimes she chokes up a bit, overwhelmed by being away from me.

Max spoke to me once... the first time I called. He told me he was having fun, said he loved me, and passed the phone back to his sister. Short and sweet. Everyday I ask if he wants to talk to me. Everyday he says no. It makes me smile.

I hate the phone. It's a strange device to me - empty voices (albeit often of loved ones) coming from nowhere. There's no context, no continuity, truly no rhyme or reason. Max is all about context, continuity, and reason.

Which is why I smile when the little boy I love so much doesn't want to talk to me. It's not about me, it's about him. And his ever increasing sense of self... knowing that he's safe to say no to me when he doesn't want to do something. Knowing that sometimes I'll help him to do it (if it's something that needs to be done) but also knowing that I'll let him have the space he needs and wants to be himself. Just the way he is. Without guilt. Without secret wanting to change him.

I know unreservedly that Max loves me. As he knows I love him. And in the same manner in which I would never hurt Max's feelings on purpose, I know he wouldn't hurt mine. And he doesn't.