Her new thing is identifying red lights and green lights. Do you know how many stoplights there are in Studio City? Neither do I, but Sadie is helping to remedy this by helpfully pointing out each one of them.
We've been to the Americana at Brand three times since the holiday season began, and I think we could go every day for the rest of her life and she wouldn't get tired of it. Yesterday morning we met Amy and Narinder, Melanie and Dave for a really nice brunch, because I've been promising myself that I'd start inviting people out for more brunch dates. Afterwards we walked around the Americana, which is what it would look like if Christmas vomited on the lovechild of the Bellagio and Bedford Falls. Narinder got Sadie a balloon shaped like a dinosaur, and there are no words to describe what her mood was like the rest of the day. "Euphoric" comes close.
Okay, now I'm getting into the groove. I was dealing with a lot of anxiety for awhile over the pushing incidents at school, and Sadie's reaction to them. Which was, namely, to not want to be touched in any way by other kids whether it was pushes, hugs or random trips and falls. This is a problem, you know, because toddlers are all about invading the personal space of other people. When I sit and watch the other kids at school I notice little skirmishes happening constantly. Two kids will begin to argue over a toy, and it escalates incredibly quickly. From "Mine!" it goes to "MINE MINE MINE!" and then suddenly someone is smacking someone else. Sometimes there aren't even words first. The teachers intervene, the kids are pulled apart, and not one minute later the whole thing is forgotten and one is playing with the precious toy while the other is elbow deep in play dough.
Except with Sadie, it isn't like that. A kid pulls a toy from her hand, and she stares after them, crestfallen, but doesn't react. A kid pushes her aside on their way to the slide and she reels back in fear, sometimes yelling, "Be careful!" or other times, just bursts into tears.
At least, that's what was happening. Today we went to the Coop, and sat in the bouncy house. I had to be in there with her -- she wouldn't go inside by herself. But as we sat in there, kids came in and kids came out, and they cannonballed into each other at high velocities, and none of it seemed to bother her too much. That all changed, of course, the minute I tried to get out of the bouncy house without her -- she wouldn't have it, and stared at me with tear-filled blue eyes: "Mommy in the bounce house? Come in? MOMMY COME IN THE BOUNCE HOUSE." I'm hoping that means this storm might be passing.
Another nice thing happened, and that was that another of the moms at school chatted with me for awhile about what it's like having a sensitive kid. Her son, Sadie's classmate, is the youngest of four boys and one of the sweetest and most easygoing kids I've ever met. (Footnote: I haven't met many. Kids, that is.) Hearing her refer to Sadie as "sensitive" in such an off-handed way put it into sort of a nice, relaxing perspective. She has four boys, so she would know. Of course, shortly afterwards it put me into a panic. MY CHILD IS SENSITIVE, AND THIS UNIVERSE IS SO HARSH AND UNFORGIVING, HOW WILL SHE COPE??
Aaaanyway. One of the reasons why this post is so incoherent is because Scott has been gone for about ten days now, and he returns tomorrow, and the re-entry is always a little rocky so to be honest, I'm of mixed emotions about it. Here's how Sadie's and my states of mind tend to swing when we're living alone together for more than a week at a time:
DAY 1: Life is normal. Whee!
DAY 2: Hey -- where did Daddy go? I get suspicious looks and some serious attitude from my kid.
DAY 3: Sadie switches from grumpy to extremely clingy, on the off-chance that I, like her other parent, might become prone to long, unpredictable absences.
DAY 4: Okay, now we've settled into a groove. I get adventurous and do a bunch of laundry and cook meals for the following week. We spend the evening giggling.
DAY 5: My back's starting to hurt, and I could really use a full night's sleep.
DAY 6: SO. TIRED.
DAY 7: Sadie is convinced Daddy is never coming home, and when he calls over FaceTime she tends to busy herself with something else. I've crashed out at 9pm the past three nights after drinking too much wine.
DAY 8: When Ana shows up to take Sadie after four days of absence, Sadie is thrilled and I want to hurl myself into her arms and sob with relief. Then I spend the morning in the bedroom in front of the computer, quietly freaking about all the work that hasn't been done and the fact although I did laundry four days ago, I've neglected to actually put it away and now the hamper is already half full again.
DAY 9: Renewed commitment to the task at hand. It's her and me, together in this cold, cold world. (Oh -- and two dogs who need constant attention but haven't been walked in a week). We're both up to the task. We won't cry. We won't back down. We're tough. Invincible.
DAY 10: Oh hey, Daddy's home!
One month later: lather, rinse, repeat.
Showing posts with label separation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label separation. Show all posts
Monday, December 5, 2011
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Separation Anxiety
I am fortunate enough to have a husband who works, and unfortunate enough to have a husband who travels frequently. Sometimes, they're even home at the same time and then things really get awkward. (Sorry. I have a secret love of Mormon housewife blogs and sometimes I unintentionally pick up their wryly serene tone.)
Really, though, it's tough. Tough on me, but much easier than it used to be, in the times before I got used to how it felt to have a partner share your home and then leave for a week or two and then, just when it was beginning to feel like a new sort of normal to live on your own again, have them walk back in the door, only to leave again a week later. Now I'm used to that hectic-ness, and look forward to one day not having to deal with it quite as often as I do now. Then again, my mom copes with the same thing because my dad still travels regularly for work, so maybe it's just a lifestyle to get used to.
A lifestyle for adults to get used to. I'm starting to understand that for a kid, it's much harder.
My memories of Dad traveling when I was a kid are hazy. He'd be gone for a week, to Dayton or Oklahoma City, and when he'd got home, if I was lucky, I'd get a present, so that was cool. I don't remember it being tough. But I see it becoming tough for Sadie.
She's a hop, skip and a jump away from 2 years old now, and old enough to understand the passage of time. She's also at a point where routine is everything. It has always been important, but now it's crucial. We have a routine for meals, a routine for saying goodbye when Ana arrives in the morning, and a very long routine for going to bed that involves EXACTLY THREE STORIES while sitting on Mommy's lap and then walking around the room saying goodnight to every single object she has ever owned or will own, ever.
Daddy is a big part of that routine, and now he's not here. (He also doesn't read this blog, or else he'd guilt-trip me into infinity for saying this.) He gets home right around her bedtime, too late to really hang out together, so usually he gets up with her in the morning and fixes her a bottle. He checks his email while she sits in his lap and watches "Sesame Street." I get up a little bit later, but not too quickly, because I know this is their hang-out time and it's important. Also, I really like to sleep in.
Okay, now that I've become maudlin, here's a quick rundown of what our week has been like with Scott out of town.
Monday: Nothing out of the ordinary. We meet my friend Birge and her daughter Nova at the zoo. Sadie seems to be starting a phase wherein she wants to do crazy things like lie down on the dirty ground outside the orangutan house and declare that she's "sleeping." Scott's not there when I tuck her in, but that happens often, so I chalk up her behavior to a typical toddler phase.
Tuesday: Up at 5:45 am. WTF? She's begun to suspect something's amiss. Ana arrives and she whines, wanting to stay in my lap, but is easily diverted by the promise of taking the dogs for a walk, and a moment later toddles off hand-in-hand with Ana. That night, she gets into one of her cranky moods which can only be appeased by torturing the dogs and running around in circles until she falls down and cries because it's my fault.
Wednesday: Up at 6:30. When Ana walks in the door at 8:30, Sadie bursts into tears and orders her to leave. To say that this is unusual behavior is like saying that Cookie Monster rejecting an Oreo is unusual behavior. Fuck, even my analogies have Muppets in them. We drive to my parents' house for dinner, and she threatens a meltdown the whole way Her angelic behavior with my parents lasts until approximately 30 seconds after I've put her back in her car seat for the drive home, after which she fusses and cries for almost the entire hour that it takes to get home.
(Wednesday night addendum: She wakes up at least four times. That I can remember.)
Thursday: Up at 5:45. There is not enough coffee in the world. When Ana arrives, Sadie looks at her, looks back at me, and HITS ME ON THE ARM as hard as she can. I'm starting to get that she's mad at me. Thursday evening I take her to visit Marcia and Mirk, my grandparents, whom she hasn't seen in a month or two. She's good for about 45 minutes and then she crawls into my arms, closes her eyes and refuses to look at anyone. Bedtime at 6:15.
Friday: ???? Oh, right, Scott's home! Thank God.
Really, though, it's tough. Tough on me, but much easier than it used to be, in the times before I got used to how it felt to have a partner share your home and then leave for a week or two and then, just when it was beginning to feel like a new sort of normal to live on your own again, have them walk back in the door, only to leave again a week later. Now I'm used to that hectic-ness, and look forward to one day not having to deal with it quite as often as I do now. Then again, my mom copes with the same thing because my dad still travels regularly for work, so maybe it's just a lifestyle to get used to.
A lifestyle for adults to get used to. I'm starting to understand that for a kid, it's much harder.
My memories of Dad traveling when I was a kid are hazy. He'd be gone for a week, to Dayton or Oklahoma City, and when he'd got home, if I was lucky, I'd get a present, so that was cool. I don't remember it being tough. But I see it becoming tough for Sadie.
She's a hop, skip and a jump away from 2 years old now, and old enough to understand the passage of time. She's also at a point where routine is everything. It has always been important, but now it's crucial. We have a routine for meals, a routine for saying goodbye when Ana arrives in the morning, and a very long routine for going to bed that involves EXACTLY THREE STORIES while sitting on Mommy's lap and then walking around the room saying goodnight to every single object she has ever owned or will own, ever.
Daddy is a big part of that routine, and now he's not here. (He also doesn't read this blog, or else he'd guilt-trip me into infinity for saying this.) He gets home right around her bedtime, too late to really hang out together, so usually he gets up with her in the morning and fixes her a bottle. He checks his email while she sits in his lap and watches "Sesame Street." I get up a little bit later, but not too quickly, because I know this is their hang-out time and it's important. Also, I really like to sleep in.
Okay, now that I've become maudlin, here's a quick rundown of what our week has been like with Scott out of town.
Monday: Nothing out of the ordinary. We meet my friend Birge and her daughter Nova at the zoo. Sadie seems to be starting a phase wherein she wants to do crazy things like lie down on the dirty ground outside the orangutan house and declare that she's "sleeping." Scott's not there when I tuck her in, but that happens often, so I chalk up her behavior to a typical toddler phase.
Tuesday: Up at 5:45 am. WTF? She's begun to suspect something's amiss. Ana arrives and she whines, wanting to stay in my lap, but is easily diverted by the promise of taking the dogs for a walk, and a moment later toddles off hand-in-hand with Ana. That night, she gets into one of her cranky moods which can only be appeased by torturing the dogs and running around in circles until she falls down and cries because it's my fault.
Wednesday: Up at 6:30. When Ana walks in the door at 8:30, Sadie bursts into tears and orders her to leave. To say that this is unusual behavior is like saying that Cookie Monster rejecting an Oreo is unusual behavior. Fuck, even my analogies have Muppets in them. We drive to my parents' house for dinner, and she threatens a meltdown the whole way Her angelic behavior with my parents lasts until approximately 30 seconds after I've put her back in her car seat for the drive home, after which she fusses and cries for almost the entire hour that it takes to get home.
(Wednesday night addendum: She wakes up at least four times. That I can remember.)
Thursday: Up at 5:45. There is not enough coffee in the world. When Ana arrives, Sadie looks at her, looks back at me, and HITS ME ON THE ARM as hard as she can. I'm starting to get that she's mad at me. Thursday evening I take her to visit Marcia and Mirk, my grandparents, whom she hasn't seen in a month or two. She's good for about 45 minutes and then she crawls into my arms, closes her eyes and refuses to look at anyone. Bedtime at 6:15.
Friday: ???? Oh, right, Scott's home! Thank God.
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