Goodbye Toddler, Hello Son

A couple of years, err, decades, ago, my mother bought me a coat. I think I was going off to college, or perhaps it was my winter break from my freshman year in college, whenever. As she was paying at the counter, I gave her a hug and kissed her and said "thanks mom!". The checkout lady moaned "awww" and sighed, longing for affection like that from her child. She said to my mom "I wish my son would kiss me every once in a while!" My mother mentioned my brother wouldn't ever kiss her either, and they commiserated as only mothers can.
For some reason, that story stuck with me through all those years. I had never given a second thought as to how many times I hugged, kissed or thanked my mom. I just did it because I was taught to appreciate gifts given to me. I gave hugs and kisses regularly because we were an affectionate family that hugged and kissed each other.
But boys seem to be different when it comes to affection. When my son was born, I kept thinking about that department store discussion my mom had with the checkout clerk, and I spent every moment I could, hugging and kissing my son.
But now my little baby boy has turned 4, and has begun rejecting my hugs and kisses, opting for climbing, jumping, running and hide and seek.
How could this have happened? I've never gone a day without kissing my big guy before. Now I must be content with only a goodnight kiss? And when will that become "yucky"? Why is it my son will happily shove an earthworm into his mouth, but shies away from his mommy kissing him on the cheek? Is it something in toddlerhood that makes them want mommy's hugs and kisses, and the end of toddlerhood means the end of childhood hugs and kisses?
I know I still have a lot of kisses in my future, but the weaning of childhood affection has begun, and mommy's feeling the pain.

Holidays Suck

The Eight Crazy Nights are fast approaching, and I'm dreading their arrival.
I used to love Hanukkah. I'd go to parties, we'd light candles, eat a ton of fried food, and drink wine. We'd talk about everything and nothing, perhaps watch some football, and just have a wonderful time. But that was all before children.
When you have children, Hanukkah is all about the presents. Quality time with friends and family is nonexistent to a child - it's anathema. Your presence is tolerated because that's the only way the kids will see those presents.
But even worse: you want to buy your kids everything. You look at your measly budget and think "I don't need to eat for the next several days, I can swing this purchase!". Then your stomach reminds you there's a reason you're 30 pounds overweight, and you don't purchase that Handy Manny overpriced whatever. Instead, you buy a 5-scoop sundae at Friendly's to drown your depression at being such a poor parent who can't give your children everything they want, and what is this "teach them budgeting and delayed gratification" crap anyway?
My inner child awakes when I walk through the store, and sits on my shoulder like some bad 70's movie:
"Your son NEEDS those Thomas the Tank Engine tracks!"
"I don't have the $69.95 for the genuine Thomas tracks. I can get twice as many tracks if I buy Imaginarium, and it's only $39.95."
"Loser. You know those generic alternatives are crap! Stop being so selfish and get him the Thomas! You don't need to pay the phone bill in January because all your friends will disown you for buying the loser version of those tracks!"
On and on it goes. Row after row of guilty pleasures, me constantly wondering if I've taught "enough" of a lesson of delayed gratification and the finite nature of money to my children, and maybe just this once, I can splurge on them. Forget that I gave in 3 days ago and bought Wall-E; I haven't bought anything for them today, have I?
I was hoping to make menorahs from tongue depressors and glitter; have fun with my kids making latkes in the kitchen; playing dreidel and telling dibbuks. Instead, my son runs up and says "where's my present?"
Oy vey.