Last night we were sitting on the sofa watching TV. A father and a son and were in some sort of danger and Amelia said, “I don’t want that daddy to leave that little boy.” I told her he wouldn’t, that he would stay with his little boy and keep him safe. And she kept watching and a single tear rolled down her cheek—the first empathetic tear I’ve ever seen her shed. It surprised me, and it surprised her. She wiped it away and said, “I don’t want that daddy to leave that little boy, and my eyes are wet because I a little crying.”
This whole time, I’ve felt certain that the divorce had been and would continue to be easier for Amelia than for Avery and Owen. It’s always broken my heart that she’ll never remember our family being “normal” or have memories of seeing her parents love each other, but I assumed that not knowing what she was missing would always make the absence easier to bear. Lately, I’m not so sure.
Amelia’s been clingy with me for the past month or so. She doesn’t want me to leave her at school, she doesn’t want to stay with a babysitter (even if I’m working from home) and she holds on tight with an “I want to go with you, Mommy” whenever I leave her at her dad’s. Normal separation anxiety, I presumed. But for the past few days, while she’s been with me, she’s also started saying, “I don’t want Daddy to leave.”
Never mind that there is, to me, a telling semantic distinction between “I want to go with you, Mommy” and “I don’t want Daddy to leave.” Never mind that I am the one losing sleep when she cries for him in the middle of the night, because she knows his presence is the one thing I can’t give to her. Never mind that it makes me angry at him all over again for doing this to the kids and to me. Never mind that Daddy already left.
What bothers me most is that even though she has no recollection of her life and her households and her parents being anything other than the way they are right now, she wants it a different way—she wants it the way it is supposed to be. She wants to be with me and with her dad. And of course she does. Why wouldn’t she?
I do wonder where it’s coming from and why it’s coming now. Is it ingrained, like some genetic or racial memory that lies under the surface of her subconscious, waiting to be triggered? Does she have some latent mental image of us all living under one roof? Has she seen mommies and daddies together at school or on TV and somehow known that that is a better set-up than what she has? I don’t know, but I know for some reason she feels apprehensive about the way things are now, and I know that there is no way for me to reassure her about any of it. I know that when a child hits that developmental stage where they realize their parents might not always be around (and not being up on my child psychology, I don’t know if she’s at an appropriate age for that or not), it has to exacerbate the fear of loss when you don’t see both parents on a daily basis—when you don’t get that nightly dose of the family being put back together again, being whole, being safe.
So, because I just don’t have enough to worry about these days (really, where IS that sarcasm font when you need it?), now I’m worried about the child I wasn’t worried about previously. I’m wondering how our divorce will affect her in ways I can’t yet see or predict. And I a little crying, too.
I can totally relate to this and I believe it’s ingrained. They know they are supposed to have a mommy and a daddy, even if they never had it. My daughter still wants and misses that, and she doesn’t remember a time we were together. It’s one of the incredibly painful pieces that does not diminish with time. Amelia will manage it like Sarah does and she’ll be fine, like Sarah is. But I know Sarah will forever miss it and it kills me.
Amelia is very smart, and while she may look like she’s doodling, or playing in her own world, she’s a sponge for everything heard, seen, and felt within your home. I think the empathy is a very good sign in that she is already trying to deal with her emotions and possibly others as well, even if she can’t understand them yet. Grace is the same way. I don’t think this is something to stress over, but rather an opportunity for you to guide her in exploring them and letting them out.(“Them” meaning emotions). You are doing a fantastic job and don’t sell yourself short. Everything you’ve done so far has been nothing short of extraordinary. Keep flexing those Mom muscles!
you not a little crying alone.
and a lotta sad that you two even the littlest bit crying.
I can’t stop thinking about this post. I think I’m going to have to blogemail you at some point, and that would be a verb I just made up.
My 13.5 month old is the same way. She wants to be WITH me and ON me at all times. It’s hard, and the other two were never so clingy. And she’s just HAPPY when I hold her.
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