I’ve witnessed separation anxiety in an infant before. She wasn’t mine but she thought I was hers.
There was a time before I had kids where when I would be around someone else kids and I don’t pay them no mind, they would try their hardest to get my attention. Anyone ever notice how persistent children are? Nah, me either. I could be sitting in a doctor’s office, minding my business when a wild jigglypuff appears! Nah, I kid — it’s just a kid who wants to climb up my pant leg and sit on my lap and grab my chin with their gums, no issue there. Kids have always seem drawn to me — I’m a complete stranger to them. Anyway, let me get to the point of this blog before I bore you to death.
It’s a time every infant go through what experts call ‘separation anxiety’. What the experts didn’t do is give it a scale; from mild to extreme. My son has extreme separation anxiety and it makes my heart sad, makes me feel bad for leaving and going anywhere without him. It makes me want to kiss him until he stops screaming “mama” and falling out (speaking of that, one day he’s going to do that and it’s going to hurt). This little dude watches everything mommy does. When mommy puts on her clothes and gets ready to go someplace, it’s like the calm before the storm. When I grab my shoes he gets worried. When I put on my sweater, his eyes start moving back and forth. When I grab my coat he starts moaning. When I reach for the keys, he’s kicking his feet while opening and closing hands. As soon as I close the door…”mama, mama, mama, mama”. It’s been bought to my attention that the mama’s doesn’t stop until he hear me coming in the house or he tires himself out.
When he wakes up and I’m sitting there looking at him, he starts crying this “why did you leave me?!” cry and he doesn’t stop this cry until he’s in my arms yanking off my glasses and trying to gum me to death.
What I need to do is to be ready. I need to find out how long this ordeal will last. Longer than terrible two’s? Longer than teething? I don’t think my face can take anymore of his gum attacks — with drool twice as lethal. I love my son but I hope all of this don’t make him into a mommy’s boy.