There have been some scary dreams lately. In one I was going the wrong way on unfamiliar roads, and Siri was unable, or unwilling to help me. I loathe being lost, and started to cry. John heard me, and snuggled closer. When he put his arms around me the fear subsided. Other nights my children were in danger, or storms pounded on the windows. Those times too, John woke up enough to calm me. 

I am a big fan of co sleeping. Bringing comfort to my babies and young children while still staying horizontal was a precious period of mothering. After an earthquake in California all four of our kids came back to sleep in our room. The baby was already a regular but the three, five, seven and nine year olds preferred our floor to their own beds across the house. I marveled that I could so successfully stabilize their world with my eyes closed. 

A woman whose son struggles with fierce anxiety was telling me about his self injury. She said she had been looking forward to him going away to college, but that no longer seems feasible. 

Why on earth didn't I put my arms around her? It's not as if it was a phone call or a text. I was right there in the same room. Yet my hands lay limp at my sides. I regret that. 

There was a time when our strategy with flailing kids was to hug them. Hard. Until they hugged back. While it did not seem exactly like magic, it felt like a step up from yelling. Or blaming.

Ben's anxiety comes in fits and starts. He currently has broken vessels in his eye from poking it. The doctor assured us there is no permanent damage, but it looks scary. Probably it felt scary. We went home with safety goggles to protect the eyes when he is upset. I am wondering if he would let me hug him. Maybe not. But maybe it would at least wake me up to the reality that he is afraid too.