Separation anxiety. Paul's got it bad. This is new territory for me. From a young age, Ben never had a problem with saying sayonara to me. While sometimes that gave me pause (hey, Ben, you could be at least a little sad!), Ben's freedom seeking was much preferable to the situation I'm in now. It started in fall when I brought him to the church nursery for child care during my Friday moms' group. He would sob and carry on in the car all the way to church. Once I got him in and snuck out of the room, he always settled down fairly quickly.
It's gotten worse. I signed him up for vacation bible school in June, thinking there was maybe a 30 percent chance that he would finish out the week. Nothing doing. About an hour after I dropped him off, I got the call: "Is this Paul's mom? Yeah, he's been crying since you left. You should probably come get him." In the time it took me to get there, they moved Paul into Ben's classroom, and, no surprise, he was just fine. However, after that first day, I considered VBS a failed experiment. It was then that my anxiety began to set in about how hard it would to send him to preschool in the fall. It's only two hours a day twice a week, but I'm picturing panic, kicking and screaming.
Unbelievably, the situation has declined further since June. We went to Great America a couple weeks ago. He would only go on rides if I could ride with him. And I'm talking the tamest of kiddie rides: little boats and helicopters, rides he has gone without pause plenty of times at Bay Beach. When I tried to cajole him into going on the boats with Ben, he planted his feet and threw his body to the ground as if I were threatening to tie him up and strap him into the scariest ride in the park. Sleeping over at Grandma and Grandpa Ceman's house always has been a favorite treat for Ben and Paul. Lately Paul has been getting crying when Mark and I try to leave. Movie, popcorn and treats usually fixes that pretty quickly, but still.
I know this is a phase that will pass as quickly as it came. Someday I'm sure he will be fully independent and I will look back on this time and wish he were a little more like he was. (I can picture me throwing myself at Paul's feet when he leaves for college: Paulie, don't leave me!) Until then, I've decided this much: Mark is bringing Paul to the first day of preschool.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
Orally fixated
I know all kids Gus's age go through a phase of putting things in their mouths, but I've never seen a child quite like Gus. Keeping a vigilant eye and preventing those chubby little mitts from inserting junk into that cute mouth of his is a full-time job.
Foolishly, I had pictured the idyllic summer I would spend with the boys enjoying the beauty of the outdoors. I would be able to lead Ben and Paul in fun and enriching activities while Gus sat closeby and amused himself quietly. Of course, as soon as summer began my little fantasy went the way of my idea of what being a stay-at-home mom would be like (unlimited reserves of patience, leading in the kids in fun craft projects - I lose it almost daily and stink at crafts). What I had not imagined was that Gus would be walking already and that I would have to spend much of my time chasing him and trying to wrench contraband from his hands. Pebbles, grass, sand, mulch, you name it, he's tried to consume it. It's pretty sad when to get a respite I set him in the sandbox with the thought that him eating a small handful of sand or two isn't as bad as the possibility of him swallowing a stone. What really scares me is knowing how many outdoor plants and flowers are poisonous.
Inside is easier but not by much. One of Gus's many talents is the ability to quickly locate the smallest item in a room and stuff it into his gob. Certainly it doesn't help that he has older brothers who have toys with small pieces. But that I can manage fairly well. The biggest inside battle is paper. He can rip it up and get in his mouth in record time. Many times a day I catch sight of his little jaws masticating and it is time again to go on a fishing expedition to remove bits of paper and other junk.
The only thing that gets me through is his naptime and the fact that this too shall pass - someday. During my little breaks, I rest up and prepare again for mouth watch.
Foolishly, I had pictured the idyllic summer I would spend with the boys enjoying the beauty of the outdoors. I would be able to lead Ben and Paul in fun and enriching activities while Gus sat closeby and amused himself quietly. Of course, as soon as summer began my little fantasy went the way of my idea of what being a stay-at-home mom would be like (unlimited reserves of patience, leading in the kids in fun craft projects - I lose it almost daily and stink at crafts). What I had not imagined was that Gus would be walking already and that I would have to spend much of my time chasing him and trying to wrench contraband from his hands. Pebbles, grass, sand, mulch, you name it, he's tried to consume it. It's pretty sad when to get a respite I set him in the sandbox with the thought that him eating a small handful of sand or two isn't as bad as the possibility of him swallowing a stone. What really scares me is knowing how many outdoor plants and flowers are poisonous.
Inside is easier but not by much. One of Gus's many talents is the ability to quickly locate the smallest item in a room and stuff it into his gob. Certainly it doesn't help that he has older brothers who have toys with small pieces. But that I can manage fairly well. The biggest inside battle is paper. He can rip it up and get in his mouth in record time. Many times a day I catch sight of his little jaws masticating and it is time again to go on a fishing expedition to remove bits of paper and other junk.
The only thing that gets me through is his naptime and the fact that this too shall pass - someday. During my little breaks, I rest up and prepare again for mouth watch.
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