His anxiety is making me anxious

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.