She cries at the door. He cries in the car.
Separation anxiety, from both sides of the goodbye — and one short ritual that helps.
· Updated
A note from Nicole
Happy Monday.
I went to the bathroom alone on Saturday. For about forty seconds. Then four small fingers slid under the door, followed by a voice asking if I was still in there, and whether I would be in there forever.
If every goodbye at your house, even the one to the bathroom, feels like a dramatic farewell at a train station, this week's story is for you.
This week's story
Emma is three, and she has opinions about doors.
Specifically, she is against them. Doors are where people leave.
Her dad, Chris, does preschool drop-off three mornings a week. On paper it takes four minutes: park, walk in, hang the backpack on the hook with the ladybug sticker, hug, go.
Join us for the rest of the story.
More from Marissa Robinson