A Separate Peace

From Day 1, Evelyn and I have been a team.

Not long after I discovered my pregnancy back in late 2010, "I" became "we." WE want Apple Jacks for dinner. WE are too tired to walk that far. WE are about to pee in our pants. You get the idea.

Since she was born, Evie and I have been nearly inseparable. Unless I am at work, on my way to work or coming from work, she's right there with me. Part of that just comes with being a single mom. I get things like laundry and dishes accomplished while Evie is sleeping or feeding herself a bottle, and my arms have become surprisingly buff from carrying her around so much.

I can recall in great detail the episodes of separation we've had throughout her lifetime. About a week after she left the womb, my mom scooped Evie out of my arms and told me to go somewhere- anywhere- by myself for a little while. Her father dragged me to the workout room at mom's apartment complex and I walked very slowly on the treadmill for 20 minutes before power walking back to my baby.

Five months later... New Year's Eve, 2011: Evelyn's first night away from Mommy. Since I had to work late anyway, Evie stayed overnight with her father. From 5-11:30, I was chin-deep in serving people a constant flow of martinis. The closer it got to midnight, however, the closer I got to a breakdown. I missed Evie terribly, but a couple gin and tonics dulled the pain while I watched the ball drop from a nearly-vacant bar at a nearby pizza place.

All of this said, now that Evie is almost 8 months old, it stands to reason that she suffers bouts of separation anxiety. More and more often, she has begun fussing because she wants Mommy to hold her.

I understand that this may sound a bit like I'm stroking my own ego, but as much as it thrills me to know that my daughter finds great comfort in my presence, I also want her to be happy independently. I think a lot of moms have that vision of dropping their children off for that first day of daycare or preschool- the one where their chubby, Oshkosh-clad toddler clings to their leg with every last shred of fortitude while tears of misery drip from big, glossy eyes staring up at them in desperation.

Though this scenario may play out in our minds, the truth is that we all hope our children will find the balance between independence and reliance, an unspoken love for their mothers that makes us indispensable above all others.

All of these musings beg the question: how do I squelch my baby's separation anxiety while still maintaining the close and essential bond we share? Is it possible to walk that tightrope at such a young age?

For now, I'm trying to let Evie play on her own more often while I'm not in a mad rush to get a bunch of things done. She sits and fiddles with toys in her playpen while I sip coffee and read in the next room. I've found that if I only force solitude on her while I'm busy, she senses that I'm only putting her down because I have to.

Though I'm picking up on more frequent comments that my baby may be a little too attached to me, I wouldn't trade what we share for anything. I've watched the last seven months go by in the blink of an eye, so yes, I'm going to hold my baby as much as I can and let her snooze in my lap while I blog.