Separation anxiety

‘Peachy number two’ is no longer keen on being separated from me. Nursery drop off is now a mini-drama accompanied with wailing, crying and flaying of legs. I need to find a solution ... fast.

When he first started nursery, a fair few weeks back on account of the return to work, he seemed happy and even dare I say it ‘chipper’. His key worker told me that she’d never met such a happy little chap, he never looked back, he ate all his food, he took part in the merry-go-round of ‘The wheels on the bus,’ ‘Where’s the cat?’ and ‘Let's go head-first down the slide,’ range of activities. I even felt a little disgruntled that he didn’t kick up more of a fuss, but as the weeks have rolled on he is way more savvy and has almightily  tuned into the fact that this is no longer a little excursion to big brother’s nursery or an occasional flirtation with the idea of attending nursery, for this is now in fact a full, blown part of the weekly schedule.

It doesn’t help that he doesn’t attend as much as ‘Peachy number one’ so when I take his older brother in, I also have to drag him along. He then starts frothing at the mouth and clinging onto me with dear life in case he also has to go that day. Today, he is attending. I say ‘attending’ because that goes some way towards expressing his reluctance at being there. He was holding onto me so tightly this morning that his teacher had to literally prize him from my arms. I can only liken it to pulling a limpet off a rock. It didn’t help my confidence either that he then not only started screaming but also gave me a death stare as if I was the devil incarnate and not in fact his mother.

In comparison, ‘Peachy number two’ goes off like a dream. He takes off his coat, hangs it on his peg, greets his friends and pulls out whatever little treasure it is he has brought with him that day – today his new, Thomas the Tank Engine ‘whistle and go’ toy (most irritating but that is another story). I wish it was the case with ‘Peachy number two’ because it just makes you feel like you are the most horrible mum going.

According to the web, this separation anxiety is merely a ‘milestone’ that will pass as quickly as it developed. I hope so because at the moment I feel pretty much like a low life. It’s just as bad when I go to pick him up, as soon as he catches sight of me he starts banging his fists, whining and demanding that I pick him up – whilst simultaneously carrying the throng of coats times two children, treasures times two children, nursery bags times two children and holding a conversation with the staff. When we get home, he continues in his stance of not wanting to be put down – so the whole ritual of tea, bath and bed is done with one hand. It is hard work. I’m beginning to wonder if he’ll ever settle in, I hope so as I’m running out of childcare options!