Babes in the Wild

I think my children are the type that would go feral and live with the coyotes if left on their own.
I've noticed that other mothers use this interesting and effective tactic of pretending to leave without their children when they want them to come or follow. It seems to work well for them, and I would use it myself, except it has no effect whatsoever on my children. Here's the scenario:

Me - Ok kids, let's go, I mean it. Really. Come on. Come with Mommy. Come on.

(My children ignore me)

Me - Ok, then. I'm leaving and you can just stay here.

(My children look at me as if to say, "See ya")

So I have to go pick them up and drag them wherever we are going.

Aaron and I tried a little experiment tonight. We were on a family walk, and it got dark, but the toddlers were too busy taking apart seed pods, picking up rocks, pointing at dogs and other intellectual activities. We just kept walking, to see if they'd eventually say, "Oh, look, our loving parents have moved on. We should join them." But no. They just kept on doing whatever they were doing. We got a full block away before we decided we'd better go get them. Isaiah joined me first, and Aaron waited, hidden, to see what Miriam would do when she noticed we'd left her "alone". All she did was calmly finish decimating her seed pod, and then get up and start walking. Aaron says she did call our names a couple times, but didn't seem too upset.

So I've decided they'd probably do fine on their own. Eating hapless strays, playing wherever there was a big pile of rocks, whatever. I should've suspected that they didn't really need me. The first time I ever held Isaiah upright in the hospital he was leaning back so that he wouldn't have to snuggle on my shoulder. Never once did he willingly lay his head down on my shoulder as a baby. Only if he was very, very sick, or sleeping. As he's gotten older he's slightly more willing to snuggle, but only briefly and in a very wiggly manner. Mim's no better. Even when they're crying because they've been hurt, they don't want me to hug them like I feel I should. They'd rather point out he injury, wail, sob, and then run play again. I need the cuddling, but they sure don't. Maybe they'll grow out of it. Or maybe I will.