But one thing that sets my mothering heart aflutter each time I hear it doesn’t originate from my kids, it comes from my husband. When I first noticed it I wondered if he was trying to do it deliberately, as though he were training himself into a new habit. I soon realized that was not the case, which made the moments that much more precious. What I’m talking about is the calling of our kids, and our son in particular, by affectionate pet names.

To be honest it never really struck me that my husband used cute names for our girls. That seems natural and common and just what sweet loving daddies do. But I took note, and immense delight, when names for our son emerged from his tongue and they weren’t just the usual “buddy” and “champ,” but “honey” too. My husband, with some frequency, calls our son Honey, and I couldn’t be more happy about it.

Our kids need affection. Our kids need to be loved on and touched and caressed and cooed over. Our kids need to hear that we love them over and over and over and over again. They need to hear it all the time, in all circumstances. The need to hear it in all our words, not just the blatant expressions of love. They need us to be affectionate when we serve them breakfast and when we brush their teeth; when we pack them up in the car and when we help them with their homework. We need to hug them, kiss them, touch their backs and tickle their arms while we watch television or read stories together. We need to wrestle with them and be silly with them.

My husband calling Gabriel Honey is not an answer to all ills, but to me it’s a poignant reminder of the affection I see in so many other instances between father and son. Hugs and kisses flow freely in our home from every member to every member. And while I understand that the way affection looks in our home today, with preschoolers in the house rather than teenagers, may not be the same ten years from now, I hope and pray that my family continues to be demonstrably affectionate throughout our kids lives.

My parents were affectionate toward me. We were not an overly demonstrative family–I suspect I am probably more touchy-feely with my kids than I remember my parents being with me. But I do recall with warmth watching James Bond movies and sports with my dad while he tickled my legs draped comfortably across his lap. I did not live with my dad for most of my growing up and there were plenty things we missed due to our broken family, but at least I remember he hugged me and kissed me, even when I was old enough not to want to do it back.

Kiss your kids goodnight tonight. Kiss them good morning tomorrow. If you’re not comfortable with it, you’ll get more comfortable with it the more you practice. Love doesn’t always come easy and there’s nothing simple about it, but sometimes just a tender touch can make all the difference.