January 17, 2012

We've Got a Stage Five Clinger


I guess it was about time for this. I honestly thought though that we had gotten a pass on this one. SEPARATION ANXIETY.

In the past week (it was worse while Chris was in Vegas for CES) I haven't been able to leave my daughter's sight without her losing her ever lovin' mind. She is too big for me to carry around all the time and sometimes when I hold her I can feel my back spasming. With my history of back problems that render me unable to move I was also scared to carry her for that long. So, last week I took to putting her in her high chair and dragging it around the house with me.

The highchair came with us the washing machine and dryer. Then we would head off to the kitchen and eventually journey back to the living room. Finally our travels would land us in the bathtub, which would lead to the glider, crib and (Thank You, Jesus!) bedtime.

Sometime after that I got a minute to pee without Evie watching from her high chair.

On Sunday night I went in to check on her before I went to bed (I check to make sure she is breathing every night before I go to sleep and a few times during the night when/if I wake up). She normally sleeps right through any pats on her bottom, or rearanging of blankets I might do but Sunday night she woke up and before I could scurry out of her room she saw me. I tried to shut the door, but she saw me go out and started wailing at the top of her lungs. She was not fussing and she wasn't crying. She was wailing like somebody done broke her heart, killed her favorite dog (Rocky) and stole her bears. Of course I immediately went back in her room. She was standing up gripping the top of the crib with big ole crocodile tears running down her face.

It was so pitiful to see those big tears so I (of course) went in an scooped her up. We tocked for a minute and I laid her back down. However, she once again saw me leave the room and shut the door. Cue the wails. And the tears. And the mommy coming to the rescue. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.


Anyone else out there go through this? Any tips? I hate to walk away from her crying but I also feel like I should be allowed forty seconds to go to the bathroom ALONE.