Drop-Off Blues

Bubba hates to be dropped off anywhere. School, the church nursery, anywhere. This is more than the normal separation anxiety, and, really, he is too old to be going through separation anxiety anyway.

This is because he is a big, fat Mama's boy.

He cried every single day I dropped him off last school year, and that was at our church -- a place where he should be completely comfortable, because he is there all the time. In fact, halfway through the year, I made the nanny start to take him to school because I couldn't handle all the screaming and crying at drop-off, and he started to go in just fine.

So I know the problem is me.

He does the same thing when he is dropped off at the church nursery. It is a fight every Sunday. He knows everyone in there, and he is fine 2 seconds after I leave him, but he has to make this huge scene every single week like I am abandoning him.

So, this year, the kids are at a new school. Parents drive up to the side door of the school, and a teacher comes up to the car and gets the kids out in the mornings. The first week went fine -- or, at least, it went fine as far as the car part was concerned. I pulled up, Bubba and the girls hopped out, walked in, and then Bubba would stop in the doorway of his classroom and refuse to go in. His teacher would have to literally pick him up and make him come in the class. The tears would start, and he would cry for a bit. After a while he would calm down and start his day with the rest of the class, and he would have a great time.

This week, however, has been a totally different story.

Monday, the teacher came to get the kids out of the car, and Bubba jumped up and hid in the back so that she couldn't reach him. I opened the back gate, and he ran up and jumped in my lap, so the teacher had to come up to the driver's door and pry Bubba's hands off the steering wheel as I pushed him out to get him out of the car. Meanwhile the line of parents waiting to drop kids off is getting longer and longer...

Tuesday I didn't let him unbuckle until the teacher came to the door, and Bubba started screaming and swatting at her hand as she tried to get him out of his car seat. She had to force him out of his seat because he was hanging onto it for dear life. That afternoon I got him a big fire station for his Thomas set, and I took it home and made this huge deal out of it and told him that he could have it as soon as he could start going into school "like a big boy." I made it clear to him that he couldn't get it after just one day; he had to act like a big boy going into school and church several days in a row before the fire station was his.

Bubba was so excited, and promised that he was going to be a big boy. I just knew that this plan would work!

Wednesday came around, and we headed to school. Bubba was in a great mood on the way there, and he talked about being a big boy. Everything was going great until Miss Jessica came to get him out of the car. Then he started swatting her hand and saying "No!" and crying all over again. I tried to remind him about his fire station, so he kept telling me "I'm not going to cry!" as he screamed and cried.

I talked to my friend, Margaret, after that failure, and she suggested that we role-play so that Bubba could practice how he was supposed to act at drop-off. So, yesterday afternoon we practiced and practiced. And we practiced again this morning before we left for school. Bubba was ready to try again to be a big boy.

We were on the way to school, and right before we got there, Bubba started screaming. My heart sank. But then he said "I've got to POOP!!!!!" I told him that we would be at school in just a minute, and he could go as soon as we got there, but he said "No, I've got to go NOW!" However, there was no place for me to stop; the school is in the middle of cotton fields. So we kept on, and we got in line behind 2 other cars. Bubba was in the back seat screaming and crying, but for a different reason this time. I reached into the back and unbuckled him and told him to take some deep breaths. When it was our turn to get out, Bubba was standing at the car door waiting for Miss Jessica to get him out. She opened the door, and he yelled "I gotta go POTTY!!!!" She grabbed him out of the car, and shut the door -- she didn't even let the girls out!! (Luckily another teacher was there to let them out).

So, I have no idea if our role-play helped Bubba at all, but our drop-off blues were at least solved for today; Bubba didn't have time to think about whether he wanted to get out of the car or not! Maybe I just need to pray for a potty emergency every day...