Separation Anxiety

I always thought Tanner was a "Momma's Boy". And in his own rite, he really is. But I can't really remember him going through a real stage of separation anxiety. Every now and then, when he was around 2 or so, he would tell me he didn't want me to leave, but I don't remember him completely breaking down into tears as if his whole world just came crashing down as I exited the building.

Breckin, well, he's a completely different case. When he was even just two or so months old, he would scream bloody murder when someone else held him...even Jake sometimes! He would always be scanning the room for me...or just hearing the sound of my voice would cause him to wimper for me. There were times when we would walk into a friend's house and he would feel overwhelmed, cling to me and burst into tears. He's only recently started getting comfortable with his own grandparents...as far as letting me hand him to them (but this only works if I am sticking around, as opposed to dropping him off.)

Breckin definitely had the better deal as far as my time and attention in his early months. With Tanner, I was obligated to go back to work as soon as possible...taking him into his first daycare when he was 8 weeks old. It completely broke my heart. So when I was pregnant with Breckin, I decided that I would find a way to stay home with him as long as possible. Breckin got me full-time for his first 5 1/2 months, with the exception of cleaning jobs here and there - which only required an absence of 3 to 5 hours at most. So now that I am going to work 3 or 4 days a week...I have to drop him off at my neighbor's in-home daycare. And let me tell you - it is miserable. It's somewhat funny, yet heartbreaking at the same time...if that makes any sense. As I hold him and walk into her house, he grabs onto me a little tighter. He will make flirty faces at her and giggle (so I know it's not that he doesn't like her), but then the good ol' "pass off" comes and he grabs my shirt as tight as he can with his little fists and clenches his chubby little thighs harder around my waist while starting to wimper. I have to pry him off me as I hand him to her and he immediately breaks down into the most pathetic, heart-wrenching cry. This is why moms don't want to go to work...simply to avoid having to see this horrible scene...and worse, to know that it was she that caused it.

Every time I drop him off, it breaks my heart a little...and I just want to soothe him and say "OK, baby, Mommy is quitting her job today, I promise..."

Ugh. If only.