I’m pretty sure that L. is attempting to set a world record for “The baby who has separation anxiety and stranger anxiety for the longest amount of time, despite any efforts on the part of the parents to help them conquer said anxiety.” Okay, maybe not, but we’re going on seven months now, with no sign of the anxiety waning.
I drop him off at the church nursery every week and now, since he’s so clever, he starts crying as soon as we enter the nursery hallway. And if — horror of horrors! — someone in that hallway dares to look at him, the crying turns into shrieking and wailing. When I pick him up, I hear comments like, “Oh, he was fine. I mean, I had to hold him the whole time and we couldn’t sit down and I had to play him all the various ringtones on my cell phone in order to distract him, but really, he was fine.” I feel some guilt for inflicting the nursery workers like that, but I keep telling myself that one of these weeks, L. will realize that Mommy will indeed return for him and that the nursery volunteers are actually quite nice and it’s not so bad to enjoy an hour or two of playing with all kinds of toys that we don’t have at our house. So far, that hasn’t happened. But maybe next Sunday will be the magic day.
He’s not crazy about people coming into our house if he’s not very familiar with them. He’ll usually eye them up, cry for a while, and then decide if they can be trusted or not. Some can. And some — judging by the ongoing tears — apparently cannot.
He does okay in public when he’s with me. As long as strangers — or even non-strangers that he hasn’t seen in a while — don’t make eye contact with him or get closer than 36 inches from him.
One place where he seems to always be perfectly happy is the car. I’m thinking that’s because no one is ever in our car except immediate family members. It’s usually Mom, C., and L., with Dad thrown in on the weekends. Perfectly safe people. People he’s known for his whole life. It’s a happy place.
And I went ahead and messed with that happy place this week.
This week is Vacation Bible School at our church (feel free to read my post over at FaithLifts today, where I talk a little bit more about VBS), and we invited some friends of ours to attend. Monday morning arrived and only one friend was coming with us that day. We picked A up (names have been abbreviated to one initial in order to protect the innocent) in the morning, and he quickly climbed into the “way-back” with C., both now sitting behind L., who was innocently hanging out in his carseat, eating reading a book.
We headed off down the road, and naturally, C. and A started talking and laughing and generally causing a small ruckus — normal little boy behavior. About two minutes later, I heard L. catch his breath. I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw his face contorting into that little-kid I’m-about-to-cry-if-you-don’t-fix-the-situation-right-this-second kind of face. Given the fact that I was, you know, driving, I couldn’t rush to his rescue, and the cries burst forth a moment later. I knew instantly what was wrong. He had just realized that someone – someone whose voice he did not recognize — was sitting directly behind him. As tears ran down his face, he squirmed, trying desperately to see behind him, but alas, the car seat would not allow him to peer around that far. The crying continued for quite a while and then, suddenly, it stopped.
Again, I knew why. His one-year-old mind had made a correct deduction: this mysterious someone in the back seat was a kid. And kids, according to L.’s view of the world, are always safe and acceptable (unlike adults, with whom you never can tell). He enjoyed the rest of the ride to church, and even smiled at the eight-year-olds’ silly backseat antics. Having A in the car would be just fine.
And then came the day that A’s older sister, J, joined us. Now the way-back was full, so J had to sit in the seat right next to L.. A mere eight inches away. And she likes kids, so naturally she leaned over and cooed to him. L. was not pleased. I could imagine the thoughts running through his head: Who is this strange girl and what is she doing in C.’s usual seat? She looks older — surely she must be nearly a teenager and the jury’s still out on their trustworthiness. What do I do? More importantly, why is Mom letting all these strangers ride in our car? Crying quickly ensued.
J, being a girl who understands babies, kept her distance, and before long, L. gave her the seal of approval. J and A are now in the inner circle of people allowed to be near him without causing screaming.
Whew. The car is a happy place again, although L. will probably be glad to get back to having only the safest people there.
I have to laugh, though. When C. was a baby, he was very serious. He didn’t smile easily, and would always stare intently at people he didn’t know, as if studying them to find out what made them tick. But he easily went into the nursery, or even to complete strangers, without so much as a single tear. L., on the other hand, is much more smiley and giggly, but he prefers to save those smiles and giggles for an elite few. The “outside world” just needs to keep its distance. It seems all backwards, but kids are rarely predictable and certainly don’t come with instruction manuals.
So despite my lack of an instruction manual, I’ll keep trying to help L. overcome his fear of strangers. In the meantime, I’ll try not to let too, too many strange people get in the car. After all, if I glanced over to the passenger seat one day and saw that a total stranger had just decided to climb into the car, I’d probably cry or scream, too.
Too funny…thanks for the laugh!
Have a great Wednesday
God bless
Thank goodness I am not alone. I was starting to worry about my own little one as she has no tolerance for strangers and insists on being with my at all times. It is the hardest thing in the world sometimes to leave her somewhere and listen to her cry (of course, three minutes later she seems fine when I listen through the door).
Wow, that is a long time to deal with separation anxiety! Here’s hoping he gets past it shortly (although I’m sure you’ve been hoping that the entire time!).
Funny post, and I surely would scream if I turned around to find a complete stranger in the car!
I’d never really thought about it from the perspective of what I’d think if I were sitting in my car and a total stranger got in. That cracked me up.
Poor little sweetie! You know, I think some kids just never get quite comfortable. We just spent the weekend at a family reunion at my parents’ house. My 4-year-old would not look at or speak to a single person outside of our immediate family. Not even his Grammy and Papa with whom he normally loves to hang out with. Just too many strangers. If someone tried too hard to get him to talk with them, his eyes welled up with tears. And as frustrating as it can be to me, because I’m sure some people judge him as rude, I just have to remember that I’m extremely uncomfortable with strangers and large groups of people as well.
As usual, your post brought a huge smile to my face!
Oh this is tough! I used to think that it was the parents’ fault when babies cried like that when they were left at 9 months old. I thought that they just must not have left them with anyone else early or often enough. But of course, I know better now (because I’ve known lots of people who struggled with it).
Surely it will get better soon, right?? Here’s hoping that this Sunday is the magic day!!
Aww, poor sweet little L.. How frightening it must be for him to find a stranger sitting next to him. I’ve never thought of it from that perspective, but it makes perfect sense. I’d be frightened if a stranger was suddenly in my car without my permission.
I do hope he out grows the stranger anxiety soon. I know how frustrating it can be. Olyvia has had stranger anxiety since the day she was born and still does. She doesn’t cry when too bad when strangers come over, but she does cry through nursery (i usually get paged within 10 minutes), and she cries when I leave her with a sitter.
I’m sure they’ll grow out of it soon.
Hugs,
Eden
That is so funny Katrina.
And like you said… babies certainly don’t come with instruction manuals… I’ll never understand that!
I’m just hoping the smiles and giggles will make up for the contorting faces.
One thing’s for sure – whatever worked with kid#1 likely wont with kid#2. God’s good that way – keeps shaking it up, making us depend on Him, doggone it! Hang in there – eventually you’ll have to pay him to spend time with you guys.
Poor little guy! My kids all, except one, have had the nursery screaming until they were at the very least, 2 1/2. Trinity did not have a problem, I think its because all of her siblings are old enough to take care of her and she just always knew she was safe. Sam is just about to hit the sep anxiety stage, so we’ll see with him. But 5 out of 6 kids went through it for over 2 years. I just don’t leave them. I try and then come back. And eventually they just are fine. Its a short time in my life to make them feel that mom will ALWAYS be there for them if she can.
My daughter is almost 2 years old and she screams so hard in nursery they won’t let me leave her cause they think she is going to make herself sick. I have since become the regular nursery worker. I figure maybe that is where God wants me to be!
I just found your blog and am thoroughly enjoying it!
My younger daughter went through it for quite a while even though she never even made a peep when I dropped her off during the week at daycare. I didn’t ever force her to go to the nursery when she was frantic about it, and for a while I didn’t even try to leave her and brought quiet activities to keep her attention during the service. I figured it was only for a season, and if she wasn’t ready, she wasn’t ready. I also didn’t think it would be fair to subject the workers and the other kids to it.
My younger daughter is almost 2 and has cried a couple of times when I drop her off, but she has a different personality and it subsides quickly. (I hang back where she can’t see me at the window and make sure!)
My Little King has been to nursery since birth, and he TOO cries eveyr single week. He is almost 2 years old. He loves nursery and I know it because he is always happy when I sneak in to look at him before picking him up. It is embarassing sometimes!
Katrina–I know it won’t help to tell you this but he is normal. Rest assured there will be a time when he is ok with you leaving and you will have that familiar twinge in your HEART. He didn’t even look back. Keep the faith and stay strong.