One of the things Lynden has had to adjust to while I've been back to work is having different people watch him. We've been very lucky and he liked everyone who is watching him, but that does not stop the occasional break down when I have to go.
The worst was the morning after he
fell and scraped his face. When my friend Amber arrived to pick up the kids he went into full meltdown mode.
I'm talking crying hard enough to make his eyes swell, screaming loud enough I prayed no one called the police, screeching that would wake the deal, all with arms and legs in full swinging and kicking mode.
At first I was calm, talking to him (while he continued to cry), explaining what was going to happen. When he continued to be a blubbering mess I told him to go to his room until he was calm enough to talk to me. I use this tactic quite often as he usually calms down within a few moments.
Not this time.
After about 5 minutes I went into his room to talk to him (by this time his eyes were starting to swell). Every time he sobbed "I don't want you to go to work" my heart broke. But all I could do was tell him that I didn't want to go to work, but I had to, so he had to go with Amber, but I would be home tonight before he went to bed and I would be home all day the next day. To which he'd say "I don't want you to go to work" and cry harder.
I snuggled and cuddled. I talked calmly and rationally. I told him I had to go to work and I was sorry that made him upset but I had to finish getting ready (I was packing my lunch, feeding Alyssa, and trying to get the rest of their stuff packed). I again told him he could come out when he was done.
After a few more minutes Amber tired to go in and talk to him about all the fun things she had planned for them. Lynden didn't handle it well.
This is when it got bad.
He can running out of his room into the kitchen and crawled through the chair legs to hide under the kitchen table.
This is when I started to get upset.
I dragged him, kicking. screaming, and screeching, out from under the table and carried him downstairs. I was prepared for him to run back upstairs so I closed the baby gate behind us.
When we got to the bottom of the stairs he got louder and more hysterical. I sat him on my lap and pinned him in my arms so he couldn't run away. I tried, still calmly but sharply (in my opinion), to talk to him. I managed to get one shoe on him before he bolted back up the stairs.
Here we are, standing in the entry, Alyssa ready to go with her brother having a meltdown, with 15 minutes until I need to leave for work. I was at a loss for what to do so I resorted to threatening Lynden with the wrath of daddy. This normally works.
Not this time.