Separation Anxiety

Mini Minx is in full-blown separation anxiety phase.

Lucky for me, this is coinciding with The Boss’s Christmas and New Year leave.  It’s easier on my jangling nerves to leave her crying pitifully at least knowing that she has a loving parent holding her.  She wails as soon as our physical bond is broken, to put her down in a chair, or a change mat or into someone else’s arms.  I met up with another Imaginary Friend today, who just exudes warmth and caring.  Even though I was sat right beside her, Mini Minx crinkled her mouth and mewled as soon as she sat in Friend’s lap.  It wasn’t because my friend was a stranger to her – baby R does this when I pass her over to her Daddy for a cuddle / some respite.

I’m not too sure how to handle this.  I could tough it out, and just go to the bloomin’ bathroom on my own!  But it’s hard to ‘go’ when you’re so tense and uptight from R’s piercing shrieks.  No, I don’t think I can physically do it – my chest feels as if it’s crumpling up like tinfoil under the hammering stamps of my heartbeat when R cries like that; I literally cannot think coherently.  So I suspect I’ll have to just live with it and let her stick to me like a little cling-on.  However, that’s easier said than done!  Example, I’ve got to go to the physio a week on Friday for a bit of repair work on my baby-broken stomach and back, so have enrolled R onto the local drop-in creche.  I don’t know whether that’ll happen now, as I’m getting deja vu from our first baby:

The Boss reminded me of what it was like when Maxi Minx was going through the same stage.  He had found a local climbing wall within a gym that had a creche attached.  Fantastic!  We could drop the baby off for some one-to-one care for an hour while we got some fun and fitness at the end of the corridor.  The staff reassured me as to how experienced they were with 9 month old babies.  “She’ll cry until you’re out of sight, then she’ll settle”, they soothed.  “You need time to yourself.  Have a climb.  Have a coffee!  Relax, we’re in control”.  Right.  Fifteen minutes later they were dragging me and The Boss off a route to collect P “and take her away”, as she wouldn’t stop screaming.  Around the same time, P’s Grandma watched her for the day as me and The Boss moved house 2 counties away.  P’s screaming went on so long and so loudly, along with a milk refusal, that her poor Grandma took her to the doctor’s (whether to check P over or to stem her own bleeding ears I know not).

R has a worse separation anxiety than P.  What are the chances of me actually getting to the physio, do you think?

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