Our Month

"Oh, man." I say again as I pull into the driveway to pick up my little people from a play date.

Alexis comes running, smiling and happy (as always). Looking at Max, I already know what has happened. Red faced, hands in pockets, bright red ears, runny nose and hiccupy breath. That's my boy every time I pick him up from pretty much anything these days. At this moment, I'm having more flashbacks to the time he was 2, turning 3, and his severe anxiety of wind. For details, there are snippets in this post and this post. But today's memory I flashed back to was actually never posted.

We were a good month into the fear-of-the-wind stage. It was June, 2009 and we were headed over to our neighborhood elders quorum BBQ that Mike was in charge of. He had arrived early to set up, so I showed up a bit later with the two little people. Mike was cooking and grilling for most of the night, and Max was happy running around with the kiddos. Until he realized there was food. Until a summer breeze shifted some of the napkins. Until he realized we could all potentially lose everything in sight to the wind. I still have vivid memories of him crawling underneath the park pavilion tables crying to all that would hear that everything was going to blow away. I still remember him clutching onto everything he could grasp in sight - not only his plate, cup, napkin and food, but everything else he could get to as well - purses, car seats, anyone's food, drinks, plates - he was trying to hold everything. He was so stressed out in fact, that my yoga-inspired techniques of deep breathing were completely ineffective. I still remember being so stressed and feeling so frustrated. Needless to say, we headed home early - probably a good thing, shortly after we'd left, the storm really picked up with actual winds and rain for the night. I still remember my sweet neighbor looking at me and just laughing (yes, Kathy), saying, "Sara, someday you will look back at this and just laugh and laugh." She was right. After about a month, Max got over it, and I now think back on that once stressful BBQ night and laugh.

Well, I've arrived at another one of those times where I have to keep reminding myself that someday I will look back at this and laugh. Except the month is coming and now going.

This time, he's developed a fear that I won't return. Not the typical separation anxiety that kids have right at the moment mom or dad leaves them. This one is delayed. Not a set amount of time, but at some point his mind registers that I have been gone for "awhile" and should be back by "now." And since I'm not back "now" then, the only conclusion is that I have left him forever, never to return. He then panics, cries (almost) to the point of throwing up (although I think we're getting pretty close to where he's actually going to make himself throw up), and asks the adult in charge (teacher, parent, whoever) to go get me as soon as possible.

Sometimes they can, and they do. Like at church, when Mike and I are in the middle of teaching our lessons at the same time. Or, a phone call, to come pick up my little man from a play date that he was supposed to be at for another 1/2 hour while I'm supposed to be catching up on errands.

But, sometimes, they really can't (or shouldn't). Like when he's in preschool with a class full of kids. Or when I'm in the middle of teaching a class at the gym.

And when those times come, I'm really grateful for their patience. Because I think they get it. They know, even though I have serious doubts, that he will figure this out. Get over it. Move on. And realize that, yes, I will come back to get him.

Here's where I insert the story of how I left him one time, or forgot to pick him up from something, or where he had this traumatic experience and thought he was stranded on the curbside, completely alone without food or water.

Oh, wait. There actually isn't one. For some reason his mind has created this very real anxiety that when I leave him (and once I've been gone for an extended period of time), that I really won't be back. Never. He will forever have to survive and live at his at school, at the gym, at church, or at his friends house (which, in some cases probably wouldn't be that bad!).

He's had this a little over a month. While I don't think I can say that I've tried everything, I can say we've tried A LOT. Mostly from recommendations from other moms who've had kids with separation anxiety of some sort. And, I have to admit. He has improved in some situations. Like during most of preschool - when his mind is constantly stimulated and busy, he's good. But then they switch to a few moments of free play and he starts to wonder. Thankfully, his teachers know this, and are able to step in and keep his mind busy on a different project while the other kids play. But anytime that he's in a situation of "free play" - a play date with another kid, spending time at the gym, a moment of down time anywhere, he's a goner.

So, I'm using this post as a vent. To write, read and laugh (a little) about everything I've tried thus far. Who knows, maybe someone will read this and have another idea. I'll try (just about) anything.

1. Cut out a heart and put it in his pocket. Did this one. Idea that "mom is always with you." Similar to the story The Kissing Hand (we tried the kisses on the hands, but thought a heart would be more tangible). When I picked him up from teaching a class, he pulled the heart out of his pocket and in tears said, "mom, the heart didn't work! It's just a piece of paper! It's not really you!" Right bud. Here's where you should use that vivid imagination you have.

2. Wear a watch. Write and show him at what time I'll be back. This one worked for the first 1/2 hour. Then, he decided that time was moving much too slowly. Panicked that his watch was broken and he would no longer be able to tell when I would be back. Sat and stared at watch for about 5 minutes. Convinced time was not working correctly had a full on panic that I was never to return.

3. Wear a sticker (similar to the heart). Whenever you see the sticker, remember that you're holding onto it for mom and she'll get it when she comes back. Yeah, right.

4. Ignore it. Yep. I've tried this one. Calm cool energy, no discussion prior or after to try to avoid the attention it is getting. Didn't work.

5. Deep breathing. Yep. I'd say he's a pro by now with the deep breathing process. But, since I'm not around when it all happens, he doesn't want to or remember to do it early enough.

6. When he's calm, have a discussion about why moms and dads pick up their kids. This was actually a great discussion. We had yet another conversation with his preschool teacher about what would happen if mom was a little late. What he and the other kids would do, and what all kids do. It actually went really well. Days later, he could even reference and talk about it as if he had complete understanding. All rational behavior and thoughts though are lost when this kicks in.

7. Stop and say a prayer when you start to feel sad or worried. Tried that one. Tough thing is that he usually doesn't remember until he's really upset, so then he can't calm down anyway.

8. Distraction. Thankfully, since this all happens while I'm not around, there are some really kind and patient people who really are trying their best to help Max out. All kinds of distraction techniques are used. Some work for a bit, some not at all. He's even had tours at the gym to see where all of the "hidden" toys are if he wants to play something different.

9. Practice time. We've done this a few different ways, but it's to help him understand what "10 more minutes" would feel like via setting a timer and then by seeing the time disappear. Kind of okay, except that he gets really fixated on it (similar to the watch), and then begins to worry when I'm not around.

10. Sing a song while I'm gone. He actually made up the song himself. "my mom always comes back, my mom always comes back, my mom always comes back, all day long." Song worked. But then forgot the lyrics and couldn't make up new ones. Since I'm talking about songs. He has a such tender heart. Last Sunday, he was actually doing really well. Finally! I thought to myself as we were approaching the last portion of church and I hadn't heard from his teacher. Until the primary started practicing the songs for Mothers Day. "Mother, I love you, mother I do" were the lyrics Max sang, as tears started to stream down his face, then thinking about how much he missed me. Tears turned into the red faced-upset little man so they came and got me. In the hallway, Max gave me a big hug. I asked him what happened and he said, "mom, we were singing about you, and I couldn't remember where you were and I started to get really sad just thinking about you, so I wanted to see you and give you a hug." Hug gladly accepted.

11. Reward (okay bribe). I gave him a set number of times for "good happy Max." If he did this for a certain number of times, he earned a trip to the dollar store. He did this perfect - twice. Then tried to negotiate that he should only be good if he could go to the dollar store after every single time. I'm wouldn't give in to his terms and the deal was off as quickly as it had been on. I didn't feel too terrible - I hate all of the Chinese plastic that seems to multiply and take over the house!


Next steps? I'm actually going back to the reward system. It's the only one that's shown some type of success. This time, he'll be filling a jar with rocks for "good behavior when he's away from mom." Once the jar is full, a one-on-one date with mom or dad, of his choice.

And time. Because sometimes that is just what it takes. We have a doc appt. set up relatively soon, so maybe that'll provide some extra information too.

And, I think it's becoming a bit of a habit for him. Now it's just about breaking the habit. Although I'd like to attribute it all to the fact that I really am that awesome and cool, I know it's not the case.

I'm actually amazed if anyone has read this long into the post. But, if you have and can actually offer thoughts, suggestions, comments, I'd love any. Don't be shy.