Regression. There, I said it. And I'll say it again. Regression. That's what I'm facing with E lately. Sure, his development is going well, with talking and understanding and all the normal toddler stuff. He's a very smart child, and he loves to learn about new things.
But I'm talking about the separation anxiety. Maybe some of you remember my sleep diary, when I used sleep training and logged the results to teach him to go to sleep on his own. In case you don't, here's a refresher. I spent months and months enforcing a structured bedtime, using an adaptation of the cry-it-out method. I recorded weeks and weeks of it, but it took a long time. For the past four months or so, he's had no problems going to sleep, either for his nap or at bedtime. He's been the perfect little toddler as far as sleep is concerned. His naps are longer and he slept through the night. Until three days ago.
The back story began about a week ago. He became my cling-on. His mommy-radar must have been reset, because instead of happily playing with trains or riding his bike with me in the wings, he refused to be separated, even by two feet. I was either carrying him or walking around with him stuck to my ankle. I alternated days, so at least I got an arm workout one day and a leg workout the other. If I was sitting, he constantly tried to climb up on me and began a never ending refrain of "nuggle mommy," his way of saying "snuggle."
I thought it was the teething, because the poor child has had the same four teeth coming in for almost six months now. I don't know if that's what it is, but two nights ago he decided he wasn't going to be a good little sleeper anymore.I put him to bed, as per his usual routine. I named all his stuffed animals (there are nine) said good night to his Thomas poster and his baby animal poster, then to his taxi cab and airplane on the wall, put on his ceiling fan, noise maker (the Shush Machine) and his floor fan, and laid him down with Mr. Jones and Puddles (his two favourite toys). I let him hold my hand for 20 seconds (yes, I always count) and said good night, bed time, lie down, good night, I love you. That's the routine after reading and teeth brushing. It's the same every night.
The problem three days ago was his sense of entitlement. He thought it was completely reasonable to fall asleep with my hand on his pillow, which I can't say I agree with. He immediately started screaming, "Mommy hand, Mommy hand, nuggle hand, Eddie nuggle Mommy hand!" He was very upset, but I stuck to what I did in sleep training, which was to go in every five minutes or so and reinforce that it's bedtime, go to sleep. It lasted an hour. That's not the kind of deja vu I like.
The next day he tried to convince me all day that Mommy's hand is not Mommy's hand, but Eddie's hand. Again, I don't agree, but I'll give him an A+ for dedication. Unfortunately for all of us, I had to take J to his swimming lessons and have Daddy do bedtime. He started crying before I left, saying "Eddie coming," and when I returned an hour later he was in his crib screaming about Mommy's hand, Eddie's hand. That was last night and tonight wasn't much better.
E's turning two soon. Apparently separation anxiety was supposed to peak at 18 months, and decrease from there. I already know my boys don't like to follow the normal rules when it comes to what's average, so I have decided that I'm not going to be fooled into a false sense of accomplishment again. When J is eighteen, I will still be waiting for him to give me one more argument about how I'm unfair and I've lost all my privileges for the next 190 years. When E is eighteen, I can expect something similar, because I'm sure he won't want to be falling asleep holding my hand every night then.
I have had a realization though. My husband, P, feels bad sometimes when E seems to prefer me, like last night at bedtime or any time I leave the house without him. E pulled the crying today at day care while I went to the gym, but only for as long as he could see me. Then he was fine. So I figured out that E crying when I go is not because he doesn't have fun with Daddy, but because he's so used to me being home. He associates me with home, and he will happily play with Daddy for hours if he knows I'm upstairs napping. It's only when he knows I'm leaving he has a problem, because apparently Mommy is not supposed to go out, at least not without him. So my conclusion is, I need to go out more. Perhaps I will commit to two nights a week when I go out for an after dinner coffee, just me, alone with a book or my laptop. It's a great excuse. Here comes the separation training......
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