Separation Anxiety

When my kids were little, separation anxiety meant helping them be resilient enough to not cry or fuss when it was time to drop them off at daycare or kinder.

I think I've done a pretty good job here. Other than the first few weeks of kinder when Miss 5 was a bit teary and clingy, both girls have been fabulous at just getting on with it.

Now that my eldest has just gone off for her first school camp, the tables are turned.

It's me - the 41-year-old mother of two school-aged children - who is discovering the pain of separation.

And boy, does it hurt.

A few days ago when it sank in that I was not going to be able to see, hear, hug, talk to (or nag/boss/yell at) Miss 10 for 2 days and 2 nights, I broke down and wept.

The thought of saying goodbye, picking up one child instead of two at 3.15, having a missing person at dinnertime...

It was just too much.

Yesterday as I drove to school to send her off, I cried all the way.

The car park was packed, so I couldn't park and walk her to the drop-off zone. Which was kind of a relief. It would have been mortifying to be seen by other kids and parents - especially people I knew - in my state.

The result was that I had to let Miss 10 off with one eye on her walking away from the car, struggling to manage her backpack, sleeping bag and trolley bag, and the other eye on incoming cars whose path I might be obstructing.

I didn't even get to give her one last hug, which made me feel even worse.

It was just as well Miss 5 decided she had a blocked nose and eye discharge and "couldn't" go to school.

Because that meant I had company.

Because I didn't have to show up at school pick-up time and have some well-meaning parent make a comment related to school camp. My pattern is: once the tears come, the sobs follow. I've never been very good at holding it in, unlike some.

Interestingly, Miss 5 afterwards said to me, "Do you know why I'm not going to school today? Because I want to keep you company."

How did my beautiful, innocent little one know that I needed support on this day of all days? What an angel.

I spent the rest of Monday secluded at home, in a heap.

Couldn't go to Yogalates.

Couldn't go shopping for groceries.

Couldn't think positive, reframe or do any of those things I have learned in my coaching journey.

All I knew was how sad I was and how much I missed my fractious, temperamental firstborn who has never been away from me a day in her life (literally, because sleepovers aren't practised in our family).

I am so thankful I had Miss 5 with me.

Every now and then, she would ask, "How are you feeling, Mummy?"

If I said I was sad, she would offer her brown teddy bear for me to hug.

Having her off school gave me permission to break the rules. I let her watch TV and video and get on the computer to play Study Ladder, which I normally don't on a school day.

When hubby came home and asked how my day had gone, I confessed that it hadn't gone well at all.

He gave me a hug.

I know this is just the first of many separations - and I'm not looking forward to the next one.

But I'm also learning that there is a rainbow after the rain.

Today, I feel better and am coping better than yesterday.

I even made it to my fitness class, which I was tempted to skip.

Tomorrow, I'll get to welcome my child home and hear all about her adventure, to notice how she has changed, and to embrace the transformation.

In the meantime, the inner work continues.