Maybe I'm not so bad with kids after all...

It's been the little needling doubt in the back of my mind for the last few months. Just last weekend, as we camped with friends and I watched Jeff take on the role of "additional dad" to the 5 little ones with us, I marveled at how children gravitate to him. By the second afternoon we were there, one little 5 year old girl--who had never laid eyes on him before--was already insisting that he be her "buddy" for a walk in the woods, and the second evening found him tossing a baseball with a couple of the older kids. Children love my husband so much--I imagine they sense his gentle acceptance of them, right where they are at that moment in time.

While I've always been fine with little ones--and back in college seriously considered being a kindergarten teacher--I'm now much more at ease with the high school students who comprise the demographic I work with every day. As a result, I've been secretly harboring the fear that there's something terribly wrong with me in that I feel no desire to hold the newborn across the street or that the toddlers at church don't race around my legs as I talk to their moms. But last night, without even knowing it, little B allayed all my fears.

B is our next-door neighbor's son. He's usually fairly quiet, often sticking by his dad's side. When you ask him questions, the answers usually begin with "no" or "yes, but...", which doesn't exactly inspire confidence in continuing the conversation. Add to that the fact that his favorite things are cars, and my knowledge is limited at best in that arena, and we don't really have much to work with.

Last night, we went over to relax and have wine with B's mom and dad (our good friends). As soon as we walked in, B was on his feet and ready to give me the full house tour (of the house I'm in at least once a week, mind you). First stop was his bedroom, where we admired a dinosaur that belongs in the basement (but apparently we didn't need to return it); next stop was the basement, where we learned all about his favorite basketball hoop, jumping sofa, and alphabet mat. Once we got back onto the main level, he snuggled in next to me on the sofa to explain the complexities of the "Create-a-Car" app on his dad's phone. For the next half hour, we created cars together, carefully adding important details like time warp roof attachments and pontoon boat wheels, then naming them before taking them for a "test drive." Even that, his favorite part of the game, was turned over to me as he studied my technique over my shoulder and commended my accomplishments ("You're doing very well") and acknowledged my mistakes ("You just hit a pirate, Miss Tory!").

After B headed upstairs with his dad for bedtime, Jeff turned to me to announce, "I think he's in love." And you know what the incredible part is? I'd have to agree--but not because I did anything to win B's sweet, innocent affection--simply because he gravitated to me for whatever reason.

Maybe I really can do this mom thing one day.