Separation Anxiety

If there is one thing I am equally proud and ashamed of, it is inspiring such love and devotion from my dog and daughter that both suffer from separation anxiety. They hate to be away from me. I took every bit of my nurturing soul and poured it directly onto them, and now they suffer because of it. Siri tells me it is a good thing because it means our bonds are strong. I would ask Siri if she has ever had to partake in kindergarten drop off.

I had been looking forward to this time in my parenting life for several years. I deserved it! The time when your kid goes to school (finally for FREE) for a good six hours a day. Those of us parenting young ones during a pandemic with our kids home 24/7 feel this especially deeply. I quit my job in June knowing that come September, I would be able to focus on myself. My dreams. My next job. My business. My bike rides.

But first I was committed to giving Kenzy a summer to remember. The summer when her Mom didn’t have to teach! I took her to see family and friends. I took her on planes, trains and boats. I took her to play mini-golf and to go down the same waterslide 100+ times at Raging Waters. I took her to the movies, shopping and to the beach. We swam almost daily in a dozen different pools. It was so much fun!

I didn’t think about the future. I didn’t think about mentally preparing her for the school year, something I was so intimately connected to from being a teacher and a student all the years before that. I knew what back-to-school meant. I figure like preschool before, she would adapt within a couple of days. Meanwhile, I could relish in alone time.

The first couple of days were great. She stoically walked from the drop off gate into her kinder classroom with an older 5th grader leading the way. I immediately went off on my bike, living my best life and only looking at my watch around 1pm to think, “Wow, this is LONG.” By the second day she admitted, “It was good but mostly bad. It is so long.”

The week following drop off got worse. And I’m not talking about a few tears here and there. First there were all the mornings and evenings in the hours before and after school filled with sadness, fear/anxiety & anger. Kenzy said, always so self-aware, “Mom, I don’t feel like myself right now.” My heart broke over and over. It is the weirdest thing to see a little miniature version of yourself looking up at you with the same quiet nature and fears.

The sadness quickly turned into a defiance I had never seen before. This part became really comical to anyone who was watching us outside of school those two weeks. Kenzy came up with every stalling technique you can think of. She pretended to be asleep in the car seat. She walked in slow motion. She ran away from me. She climbed into nearby bushes. She took her shoes off, screaming they wouldn’t let her in without shoes. She said, “I just need a few more minutes.” “I miss you too much.” “It’s too long.” “I can’t do it.” One of my favorite moments was when it was just myself, Kenzy and the assistant principal across the street from the school in a stranger’s driveway (where Kenzy had bolted to while screaming) sitting behind a pickup truck. I had no intention of ever even meeting the school staff, much less sitting with them on the sidewalk week two!

I never researched much about parenting (is that obvious?), but you can bet in the stretch of three days I visited the parenting Reddit group, made every chart, ordered every book and tried out every method for more positive drop offs. Even Kenzy rolled her eyes at the books about raccoons and elephants struggling with separation anxiety. She could see right through me.

I kept taking her to school, but the dream of me loving my free time was long gone. It sometimes dragged on for over an hour—not only the drop off, but talking to principals, admin and teachers about strategies and plans. I spent most of my days stressed that I upset my little girl and trying to problem-solve around this Mommy-obsessed daughter I willingly created.

I decide school is in fact TOO LONG. Who thought it was a good idea to put a 5yr old in school for six hours? That sounds horrible. I googled half-day kinder programs in L.A. I googled jobs at my kid’s school, thinking “maybe my next step in life could be an assistant P.E. teacher?!?” I decided she could go homeschool off in the woods one day, but I was at least going to keep giving this one a shot until she didn’t have so much fear around it.

Finally the office agreed I could temporarily drop her off there, and one of the wonderful ladies up front would walk her to class. This seemed so much less daunting than the stress of the “drop off gate.” Starting a week ago she was able to walk in without much crying (oh good 5 stickers on the GIANT XL TOY CHART). This week she walked bravely into the office everyday, but never without waking up and crying or looking at me with big scared eyes on her walk to school.

I say, “Keep going. One foot in front of the other. Don’t stop. You can do this. You are so brave. I will see you VERY soon.” I try to keep the tears out of my eyes because if I am anything it is INCREDIBLY sensitive like my daughter. But: almost every time she gets out of school doesn’t mention drop off. She only mentions how great her day was. She says the teacher calls her “sweet girl,” which makes my heart happy because my girl is so sweet. She is excited to learn and loves her friends.

I now have all the rituals in place. We have matching necklaces and bracelets. I write notes in her lunch. She has pictures of her loved ones in her backpack. We practice the one-hug drop off and my line, “I will see you VERY soon.” It seems to be getting better. And now as I write this, with a moment to catch my breath and enjoy some quiet time, I look out at the house next door that is being LOUDLY (like the ground is shaking LOUD) demolished this week and laugh. It is never how you think it’s going to be.