Liam fell asleep on my lap tonight during downstairs snack/story time, our nightly wind down before wash up, teeth, PJs, upstairs story and bed.
He had a changeable day. Started off even; went way south when the babysitter arrived at 8:30 and I went upstairs to work (deep sobbing; had to be pried off me), stuck there for a while. But by 11:00, after checking in with me for a try at the potty, he was even again, "I love you Mommy --sniff-- see you in an hour." As good as it ever gets.
He has been struggling so hard lately; I see the worry, I see the fear, I see him trying and then getting lost. And when you ask him, after a while, he usually can tell you: I'm afraid mommy will never come back; I'm afraid mommy will die; I'm afraid I will die.
He is trying so mightily to be toilet trained so he can go to preschool; but, is so concerned about the change. In the very quiet voice "Mommy--it is a new school, I might cry; What if I cry?" Leaving aside that he still cries every single day when I leave him at the "school" where he's been going for over two years. Regressing. Calling me mama again for the first time in over a year.
He will come out of it, of course. He is learning various tricks to use when his mind and body start to run away from him; just little things he can say in his head to push pause, help him regroup. And he is getting good at it; buying in. ("Mommy--I was mistaken, I thought I was too sad to use my trick today, but then I tried and it worked; Mommy? it worked.") He is so exhausted.
I am that person. The one he cries, not to leave. The one he clings to. The one who, when I sit still enough, lets him know it is safe to fall asleep.