Separation Anxiety

Last updated on: March 9, 2017 at 10:24 pm by Calah Alexander

Separation Anxiety 2017-03-09T22:24:27-05:00 Calah Alexander

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When we moved back to Texas, there were a lot of things that I was looking forward to. Topping the list was having an excess of family around to help out with the kids. For the last three years, the Ogre and I haven’t gone out unless my parents were in town and willing to watch the minions for a few hours. The one time we hired a babysitter, we ended up paying the sitter more than the movie and dinner combined. After that shock to our pocketbook, we swore off sitters forever.

My dad takes the girls all the time, but today my brother-in-law and his wife took Sienna and Charlotte with their daughter, Evangeline, to swim at my sister-in-law’s parents house. My kids absolutely adore my sister-in-law’s parents, and they were really excited. It was a last-minute thing.

On the one hand, I was delighted by this sudden and unexpected turn of events. Things like this are unfamiliar to me. Suddenly I had a whole day opened up. I could put Liam down for a nap, clean up a bit, make Oreos, and blog! And work on our website! And write some more! And even watch Dexter without worrying about little eyes peeking around corners! It’s like a dream!

But then, as I was kissing my children goodbye, I was overcome by an almost crippling anxiety. A million scenarios flashed through my mind, each grimmer than the next. What if Sienna drowns in the pool, lost in the shuffle of swimming and barbequeing, without the ever-vigilant eyes of her mother and father on her? What if Charlotte wanders away and slips into the pool? She’s so quiet, no one would even notice. It’s the 4th of July weekend and they’ll be driving on a busy highway. What if they get hit by a drunk driver? There are three car seats crammed into a tiny backseat. They’d be crushed instantly. What if…what if…what if…

It took a genuine act of the will to hug my girls with a smile on my face, kiss their foreheads, whisper a small prayer, and let them go.

My sister-in-law and I have been friends for a long time. We were friends before I met the Ogre. I introduced her to his brother. We were each other’s maids of honor. She knows me. As she was walking out the door she said, “I’ll text you when we get there.”

I know she could read that anxiety in my face, and I’m glad she did. I know I’ll sit here, occupying my hands, and wait for that text. That text that says, we’re here, they’re safe, calm down already.

I knew when we moved back here that I would have to deal with this. I’m not used to letting my kids go. They were with me all the time in Vegas, a fact I spent a lot of time whining about. But there’s a certain comfort that comes with that as well. When your children are with you all the time, you don’t have to worry about their health, safety, and well-being. All those things are within your control.

But now I have to learn to let them go, and I know it’s a lesson that I need to learn for my sake as well as theirs. I don’t want to be a helicopter parent. I want to be able to say, “Go,” and trust in God for their safe return.

I’m glad that children grow up slowly. The letting-go is gradual. Today it’s letting my two little girls spend an afternoon with their aunt, uncle and cousin; tomorrow it will be letting Sienna spend the night somewhere else; and soon enough it will be seeing them off on their first date, their first road trip, their first year in college. I couldn’t do those things now. But I can say goodbye for an afternoon and remind myself that those two souls are just as precious to God as they are to me. More so, even. And so I let go, and trust.

And maybe go eat some chocolate.

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