A Familiar Spot on the Floor

Ah, my spot on the floor in the hallway. I missed you this past weekend!My pathetic little perch at the top of the stairs just outside of our older son's bedroom. A seat. A play spot. Often a bed. Neutral ground for us for when our son is upset and needs space. A place of authority when we are trying to keep him in his room for punishment to a bad deed. Somewhere the desperate sit in the wee hours of the night while tending to the needs of a demanding child.

I'm here again tonight, and I am thankful. Making it to this spot was no small task. For, at this point, I am officially the object of our son's newest anxiety attacks. He thinks that I am going to leave him just as I did this past weekend when I went to see my mom for Mother's Day. He wants me there, beside him, sitting on his bed. Sometimes he wants me IN his bed with him--but I'm not allowed to touch him. If I try to leave, eventually, the crying will follow. Tonight, he has cried for over an hour despite my best efforts. Despite the fact that I was up with him all night last night. Despite the fact that I put on my pajamas and told him that I was going to be in bed right around the corner from him.

I walked away to regroup, and then looked for a sound toy to soothe him. If I find the right one, it can be played repeatedly until he falls asleep.

In time, was able to back my way from his bed to the floor of his room finally to my spot outside his door. For nearly an hour, I twist, twist, twist every music box I can find that is in working condition. He has broken most of the boxes in an effort to get to the source of the music, the tiny mechanics inside, but I still have a bin of those things. The turning knobs have been unscrewed and lost. But, at this point, I'll do anything to make them sing their little songs. It's the only thing that comforts him.

Between the notes of "Jingle Bells", "We Wish You a Merry Christmas", and "Beautiful Dreamer", he would start to fall asleep only to jolt awake, sit up in bed and check to see that I was still in my spot. Believe me, I was there. I was sitting still, making music and praying that this would work.

I guess tonight, my seat on the floor is a desperate one. I'm looking forward for this latest bout of anxiety to pass.