We were waiting in line to meet Santa. It was a great day, but the crowd simply got to be too much for my little guy. The excitement of the morning, the need to wake up early for the special breakfast, and the sugar of pancake syrup were all combining for a perfect storm of shyness and jitters. “Mommy, please take me.” So, despite a few funny glances, I lifted my 4 year old onto my hip and held him close.

Yes, I still hold my preschooler. Eventually, I won’t be able to anymore. At 43 pounds, he’s in the 80th percentile for weight, which is healthy, but sometimes hard to perch on my hip.

I don’t do it to baby him. On the contrary, it’s rarely my idea to lift him up (not that I don’t grin like a fool, at least on the inside). But for as long as I’m able to lift him, I’m going to.

First, it helps him feel more secure. I’ve found that the times he asks me to hold him are when he feels nervous, embarrassed, or shy.

Plus, it helps strengthen the bond between us. Studies have shown that the kids who are most comfortable leaving the nest (for things like sports and extracurriculars and school groups) are the ones who feel comfortable and safe at home. Showing him that I’m always there for him is a way to show him it’s safe to go off, and return– I’ll still be right there.

Someday, I won’t be able to hold him or lift him anymore. I can already occasionally feel the strain on my back as I pick him up. But for me, it’s so worth it to hold him. I saw a quote on Facebook the other day that made me tear up a little bit. “One day, your parents were holding you, put you down, and never picked you up again.” When you put it that way, it sounds a little sad and shocking.

I mean, with my son, I’ve always leaned towards attachment parenting. He was an extended breastfeeder, I firmly believe in red-shirting (the idea of giving kids an additional year of preschool before sending them off to kindergarten) to help kids grow intellectually, emotionally, and physically before moving onto a grade they might not be ready for yet, and of course, it’s been clear on my blog how I feel about homeschooling.

But the thing is, part of attachment parenting is giving your child the skills to grow and learn and get out into the world, and feel that safety and security. My little one is an active participant in the community. He’s helped with food drives and loves his church family. He’s tried music classes, soccer, gymnastics, baseball, and basketball, and has diverse interests and talents that he loves to explore. While much of that comes naturally, I believe his success in that is, in part, due to the fact that he feels that security at home.

And part of that security at home ties into that day when we went to see Santa. When he looked at me, a quiver in his voice, and simply said “Mommy, please take me.” I lifted him to my hip, and he nuzzled his shoulder into my neck, whispering “Thank you, mommy. My legs were tired.” The thought crossed my mind that this would probably be the last December he’d do this, and I wondered just how many months he’d still snuggle into my neck before he outgrew it– would we reach his 5th birthday? The end of the school year? Spring break? I knew I needed to cherish this moment while I had it.

And as we approached Santa… well, he hopped down from my hip, and confidently strode over to Santa to give him his simple wish list.