Is this all based on Oxtocin?
I was reading this blog because it has something to do with work and a couple of the entries struck a chord with me. I always claim to the world that I was a love baby, the youngest of six, bounced on some knee (a father, mother, uncle, aunt, brother, grandmother) for most of my childhood years. I was the only child breast fed of the six. And when everyone asks me how I came from this dysfunctional family and wound up so (god forbid) well adjusted, I just connect the dots to the love fest that was my life.Â
Now, ahem, let’s balance the scale a little by saying that my family definitely put the fun in dysfunction – I’ve had my nose broken by my father, all sorts of incestual whatnots from here and yon, a mother who was keen on role reversal so I play mom and she played bad daughter, not to mention everything else that goes along with family craziness. BUT I do feel well-adjusted and I do feel that I deserve to be loved.
The whole reading started getting me down a little bit because of something someone told me recently – their inability to understand why they are loved – and I started wondering if the proper amount of oxytocin wasn’t delivered as a child, and wasn’t reinforced in the child rearing stage, then it might not be learned so easily or excuse me for being in a hurry, so quickly.
Makes me want to go hug babies and kiss all over them. Made me smile to remember my grandma Mae Domenace – in her later years she went to the hospital and rocked newborns. It’s why yesterday at the parade I took little A off of his mother’s hands, and held his four and half month body close to mine and fed him his bottle while the parade was going on — when his mom came over to get him afterwards, she thanked me for giving her a break and I said, “my pleasure.” [Perhaps some oxtocin released my way too!]